Stranger Things Have Happened
by Queenafoster
Summary: Different but close - Alternate Universe
1. Chapter 1

Stranger Things Have Happened  
By Queena Foster

Cody stepped inside and looked anxiously around the small, cramped office, silently cataloging the contents: a scarred, generic desk holding a phone, scattered files, and papers; a batch of cubbies on the wall along with a bulletin board and a few filing cabinets; a couple of dusty, uncomfortable looking chairs one might find in an old dentist's old waiting room.

Cody startled nervously when the outside door opened behind him, letting in the constant roar of the airfield and hangar outside. A slender, middle-aged man with a slight comb-over walked in, carrying a clipboard. "Oh, hey. Didn't see you come in. Can I help you?"

Cody hoped his nerves didn't show. "I have a reservation for this morning."

"You from the law firm?"

Cody breathed a quick sigh of relief that he'd actually found the right place. "Yes. Cody Allen."

The man opened a three-ring binder on the desk and flipped through the dog-eared, scrubby pages. "Let's see…yep, here it is; Mr. Allen from Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow. Heading up to San Jose, right?"

Cody nodded, "That's right."

"You ready to go?"

Cody felt his insides turn to water. "Sure." Hopefully he sounded sure.

"I'll just get your pilot, and you can be on your way." The man came out from behind the desk and opened the door. "Hey, Ryder! _Ryder!_ " After a second or two, he blew a piercing whistle with two fingers. " _RYDER!_ " He motioned forcefully to someone outside and let the door shut, finally muffling the continuous low growl from outside.

That noise was making Cody twitch.

Shortly, a dark-haired man wearing black pants and a flight jacket came in carrying another clip board. "Hey."

The guy at the desk looked up, "Your passenger's here. Mr. Allen, this is your pilot, Nick Ryder."

Ryder flashed a quick smile, "Hi. Ready to go?"

Cody took in the man with a long assessment. Close to six feet, probably a good build but a little hard to tell under the leather jacket. And Cody had a brief idea of…recklessness. Or maybe not. _Hopefully_ not. Probably just Cody's own nerves being projected. Suddenly, he realized Ryder was staring back at him, slightly concerned. And it occurred to Cody that he didn't remember the question. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you ready to go?" Slightly slower and more carefully enunciated.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm ready."

The pilot's brief glance back at the man on the desk seemed to promise payback. But all he said was, "Okay, let's head on out."

Cody took a deep breath as he followed him out of the office and through the hanger to the bright white helicopter sitting outside. Cody stared at it, trying to figure out where the contraption might break. Or just come apart. Those blades seemed awfully thin. And were they really long enough? How well made were the screws…rivets…paper clips…that held the whole thing together?

Cody shut his eyes on panic and tried to keep his nerves in check. It was a machine, manufactured on an assembly line just like his Volvo. Engineers had to test the design and all the parts before production could proceed. There were probably thousands of helicopters like this all over the world that flew every day and never had a problem. _Just get yourself under control, Allen._

He was finally able to open his eyes and saw the pilot was staring at him again. The guy probably thought he was weird.

Cody cleared his throat, not liking the fuel smell that permeated the airfield. He decided to come clean; probably couldn't make the situation any worse at this point. He tried a smile, "So…you've probably already guessed that I've never been in a helicopter before. Where do your passengers sit?"

The pilot pursed his lips, like he was thinking about how to answer. "Well, most of the business types and lawyers sit in the back. They like the extra room and can spread out their papers and work. But it's not a rule. You can sit up front if you like. You'll be able to see everything I'm doing, which direction I'm taking us. Sometimes it helps."

By this time, Cody had made his way to the helicopter and was able to look in the back. Not dark, but certainly not as bright as the front seat with the larger windows. Of course, up front, he'd more easily see how far off the ground they were…but he might also be able to keep his bearings better and watch the pilot. Maybe have some control of the dizziness. He looked at the pilot standing beside him. No judgment, just a slight questioning smile. "I think I'll take your advice—try up front."

A slight quirk of his lips. "Okay. Let's go."

Nick settled into his seat and began flipping switches to get the helicopter warmed up. Beside him, his passenger kept fiddling with the harness. One quick glance, and Nick could see it was fine, but the guy just couldn't leave it alone. Nick had seen nerves before, but this guy was having real problems.

Which seemed odd since he looked like he'd be decently tough outside the suit. Tall and lean with broad shoulders. Probably a swimmer from his build. But a person couldn't pick what he freaked out over. Personally, Nick's problem was snakes, stemming from his two-year visit to the jungles of South East Asia; this guy, it was apparently helicopters. Maybe by the time they got back from San Jose, he would see he didn't have anything to worry about. That could be Nick's good deed for the day.

Nick handed him the headphones, and after a few seconds staring at them, the guy put them on. Nick flipped the microphone switch, "This baby's ready to go; how 'bout you?"

His passenger looked terrified, but he managed a tight nod, not saying a word.

"Okay, here we go."

The guy closed his eyes and shuddered as they left the ground. Nick tried to take it easy, but it always took a second for the stomach to catch up with the rest of the body.

For a while after they got airborne, Nick was busy, and he didn't have time to watch his passenger. When he did glance back over, he found the guy checking the windows with dread and a little curiosity.

"I thought you might like to see the ocean instead of just flying over land. That's Catalina down there."

The guy glanced back with a look of faint wonder. "Really? It looks completely different from up here."

"Yeah. Peaceful, huh?"

He became a little incredulous, "With all the racket in this thing, you can talk about peace with a straight face?"

Nick couldn't help his grin. Okay, his laugh. "Well…relatively peaceful. The _view_ is peaceful."

Despite the circumstances, his passenger's smile made him look like a bit of a risk taker. "I'll take your word for it."

"You just ask your buddies back at the office. They've never seen anything like this from the back seat, that's for sure."

"That I can believe." He glanced back out at the islands, "I've actually only been at the firm a little while. I know a few people, but there's no one there I'd ever call _buddy_."

"They make you fly up to San Jose 'cause you're the new kid?"

"Didn't say it in so many words, but that's the impression I got."

Nick digested that; being a lawyer always sounded impressive, but he'd still never met one he liked. He'd probably flown hundreds of them over the years, but they were always cynical, arrogant assholes. This guy was clearly petrified, but he'd managed a small joke about how loud the chopper was. Maybe he was a little different than the average Joe Lawyer. And the fact that he was terrified made Nick feel kind of sorry for him.

"Well, you might be the rookie, but they let you go on a field trip. And I'm gonna give you your own personal tour of the coast. You know that song by The Four Preps? ' _Twenty-six miles across the sea, Santa Catalina is waiting for me…'"_

"' _Romance, romance, romance, romance…'"_

Cody stared open mouthed at his pilot as they flew up the coast. Could this get any stranger? First his supervising partner sent him all the way up to San Jose to take a deposition. And, oh yeah, by the way, he had to fly up there in a _helicopter_. Airplanes were one thing; helicopters were all-together different. That they absolutely freaked him out, Cody didn't mention that.

Then he'd ended up driving all over the airfield this morning looking for the charter office. Finally, he just parked the car and got out to ask. Turned out he wasn't that far away, so he left the car where it was and walked to the _completely unmarked_ office. Well, okay, so there was a sign, but it was tiny. Almost non-existent. May as well not have been there at all as far as Cody was concerned.

And then he gets assigned a pilot who probably thought Cody was crazy but still proceeded to sing him a 1950's pop song about the island they were flying over. At this point, Cody wouldn't have been surprised if clocks started melting over tree limbs. Or helicopter skids. Runners? Whatever the stupid things were called.

The pilot finished the last chorus, nonchalantly checking his instruments and out the windows. Then he glanced over at Cody as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Feeling better?"

Cody couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah. A lot. Thanks."

A knowing grin, "Don't mention it. Works every time."

"Really? How often do you end up singing to your passengers?" Cody was still smiling. The pilot was so clearly confident in his flying ability, it seemed silly for Cody to be worried. Or… Well, hopefully the guy wasn't _over_ confident.

"Depends on the charter; if I'm taking up a bunch of sight-seers, maybe a fourth, fifth of the time. Your basic lawyer, business tycoon, they don't really go for it."

Cody shrugged sarcastically, "Can't imagine why not."

Nick fought his own grin, "Yeah, me neither." Then he laughed, too.

And despite everything, Cody was feeling more relaxed than he'd ever imagined being in a flimsy little helicopter several thousand feet in the air. "I'm Cody."

"Nick. Glad to meet you. So we got a while yet if you want to work on something. Or I can keep going with the tourist stuff."

"Oh, definitely the tourist stuff. Or we can just talk." Cody blew out a breath, "I'll probably regret asking you this, but how long have you been a pilot? I swear, if you say a couple of months, I'll pass out cold."

"I sing to you, and you still don't trust me?" Nick grinned in jest and then shrugged, "Since 'Nam. 1970. So fourteen years now."

Cody felt a flare of embarrassment that he hadn't served. Happened every time he met a vet. "I was just starting law school then."

Nick shook his head wryly, "Count yourself lucky. Hell on Earth. Never could figure why anybody'd even want to live in Vietnam, much less fight a war over the place."

" _You_ went."

"Only way I could learn to fly. If that's what I had to do..." He shrugged slightly.

"Wanted it that much, huh?"

"Since I was little."

"And now you're singing to a terrified lawyer as you fly him up to San Jose."

"You're still scared? I got more work to do. ' _Do you know the way to San Jose? I've been away so long. I may go wrong and lose my way…'"_

Cody cracked up, "Ah, c'mon, man. Stop! You're killing me."

"' _Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly—'"_

"Okay! No more songs!"

"You sure? I got a million of 'em."

Cody laughed again, "Clearly."

"Okay, your turn. What kind of lawyer are you?"

"Just your basic, run-of-the-mill…uhh…"

"Slimeball?"

"Well…maybe a slightly improved version of the _basic_ slimeball."

Nick grinned, "And you seemed like such a regular guy."

"Every lawyer has his day in court. That's when the whole slime factor comes into play. The rest of the time, I just stow it in my briefcase."

Nick's eyes said he didn't really believe that. "Come on. Can't be that bad."

Cody hated that he'd brought the mood down. "Sad but true. Sometimes you gotta be a slimeball to get the job done. And that's what I'm paid to do."

"Doesn't sound like you like it much."

"It pays the bills. And as I've recently found out, Southern California is not a cheap place to live."

"You just move here?"

"A few months ago. My wife got a job, so we moved. Then she got an even better job…and left me. So now I'm on the other side of the continent from my friends and my mother. Starting all over at a new firm. In a job I hate. In a house I hate. With no wife."

The pilot—Nick—just stared at him, speechless, and then turned back to the horizon. "Damn."

"Yeah."

"Well…why don't you just…quit?"

"How can I do that?"

"Well…since your wife left, what's keeping you here?"

"The job. The house."

"Quit it. Sell it. Move on, man."

Cody huffed an amused breath. He couldn't just… No. He'd made commitments. It would ruin his career if he left Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow after only a few months. And what would it do to his credit if he bought and sold a house that fast? Besides, Janet would never agree to settle the divorce that quickly. "I can't."

"One thing I learned in Vietnam; life's too short. You never know when…" Nick shrugged slightly. "And it's way too short to waste doing something you don't like, living in a place you hate. If I died today, at least I was flying…even if it was only flying you up to some crap meeting in San Jose."

Cody listened thoughtfully. What the pilot said made sense in a _carpe diem_ kind of way. But maybe Cody had overstated his case a little. He didn't _hate_ the job. Or Southern California. He just hated what he sometimes had to do as part of the job. And most of the assholes at his office. And how other people regarded him when they found out how he made a living. And how hard it could be to make friends in that environment. And that Janet had dragged him away from people who'd known him before that was an issue.

Nick cleared his throat in the drawn-out silence. "You know, sometimes I open my mouth and the biggest load of baloney just tumbles out. Sorry, man, it's none of my business."

For about the fiftieth time, Cody couldn't help but smile, this time because the guy was trying to be nice and apologize. And he hadn't even done anything to rate an apology. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. And you've given me something to think about anyway."


	2. Chapter 2

Nick studied the map. "Jerry said you're going to the Sobrato office tower on South Almaden. Can you check and make sure we're in the right place?" He handed his passenger the map, hoping that having something constructive to do would distract the guy from the fact that they were getting closer to the ground.

And to his credit, that was apparently what happened. Cody appeared to be in control as he stared at the map, then the streets, then the map, and then the streets again. He pointed, "I bet that's it."

Nick leaned over to glance at the map again and compared it to the view. "Think you're right." He headed for the roof of the high rise. He glanced at Cody again, "You don't have to worry; I got this."

Cody looked only a little uptight as he nodded, "I'm sure you do. I'm good."

Nick managed another quick look and determined that Cody did seem to be holding it together. "Okay. Won't be long." He decreased their air speed and altitude as he approached the helipad and then gently set his bird on the roof. He looked back at Cody and lifted his hands in a gesture of, _'See?'_

Cody grinned slightly, "Yeah, yeah. You're Neil Armstrong."

"Well, that might be stretching it a little…"

Cody opened the door and slid out with a deep sigh. He turned back around to grab his suit jacket and briefcase as the rotors slowed down. He straightened his tie, fiddled with his cuffs, pulled on his coat, and shrugged his shoulders a bit. "Okay. How do I look?"

Nick tilted his head, trying to imagine how he'd see the man if he didn't know he was terrified of helicopters. If he just passed him on the street. "Good. Professional."

"Okay. Okay." Cody stretched his neck slightly, like he was getting ready to step into the ring with Ali. He nodded to himself and grabbed the briefcase before shutting the door. Nick watched him walk toward the roof door, wondering how long the meeting would take, how long he'd be sitting there with nothing to do. Cody got about halfway across the roof and turned around. Coming back to Nick's door, he pulled it open. "Is that the only jacket you've got?"

Nick just stared at him, "The only one I've got with me; why?"

"What about a tie?"

"Didn't realize this was a formal flight."

Cody smiled briefly, "What kind of shirt are you wearing?"

Nick had no idea where he was going with this, but whatever. He unzipped his jacket to reveal a white button up. Fortunately, it was of the no-wrinkle variety.

Cody glanced at it and nodded slightly. "I've got an extra tie in my briefcase. Would you put it on and come in with me?"

"What are you talking about, man?"

Cody glanced back at the roof door. "When I get in there, there's gonna be about four lawyers and their client. Them on one side of the table, and me on the other. Would you come in and be my, uh, backup?"

"Isn't that against the law? Practicing without a license? Like impersonating a cop?"

"Not if you don't say anything. I'll do all the talking. You'll just help balance the table. That way, it won't feel like I'm going up against the Steelers all by myself."

Nick opened his mouth to say, _No way, absolutely not. California will fall in the ocean before I pretend to be a scum-sucking lawyer…_ But Cody looked nervous again. A little worried. And Nick hated uneven fights. He'd always been a sucker for the underdog. "I don't have to say anything?"

Cody grinned slightly, "Not a word. Just sit there and look stubborn. Maybe lean over and whisper something to me every now and then. I'll take care of everything else."

Nick shut his eyes. He was a chump. Give him one little sob story, and he fell for it every time. He sighed slightly, "Gimme the tie."

Cody had a lot of teeth when he chose to smile. He pulled a blue tie out of his brief case as Nick slid out of the chopper and pulled off his flight jacket. He put on the tie, working the knot smoothly with practiced hands.

Cody handed him the briefcase. "You carry this since you don't have a suit jacket. It'll make you look more like an attorney. Anybody asks, you spilled your coffee on it during take-off." He gave Nick a final once over and nodded "You look great. And thanks. I really appreciate this."

Nick rubbed his neck, already regretting his decision. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this over with, huh?"

Cody presented himself at the reception desk. "Cody Allen and associate to see Edgar Hayes."

The pretty brunette nodded, "One moment, Mr. Allen." She spoke into her phone briefly then stood, "If you'll just follow me to our conference room."

Cody glanced at Nick before trailing the receptionist. The pilot was wearing a hardened game face. If he was at all nervous, Cody didn't see it. When he'd first made the suggestion, Nick looked like he'd rather eat barbed wire, but he'd agreed. Cody'd figured there was a better than even chance he would; Cody had always been pretty good at persuading people to his side. But to see that Nick was playing the role to the hilt was a very good sign. Cody's raging nerves began to settle, just as they had when he flew in the helicopter with a singing tour-guide pilot.

They walked into the conference room to meet the opposing lawyers who introduced themselves as Johnson, Hayes, Hamlin, and Dumbrowski. A court reporter sat close by. And then there was their client, Josiah Tyler. The man Cody had come all this way to depose.

"Cody Allen from Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow. This is my associate, Ned Newton." Cody pulled the name out of the old Tom Swift series he'd read as a boy.

Nods were produced around the table.

"Shall we get to it?"

Nick opened Cody's briefcase and pulled out the files. Cody sorted through them and settled down to business, gathering his thoughts. The case was a wrongful termination suit brought by Miss Jennifer Samuels who was a client of Cody's supervising partner. Her former boss, Josiah Tyler, had come on to her. She'd refused him, and he fired her. While they went through all the preliminaries that were required in a deposition, Nick perused the file. Which was a violation of Attorney Client Privilege, but Cody decided to not notice that right now. Nick was doing him a huge favor by sitting in. Which was another violation of the ethics code, but Cody figured beggars couldn't be so choosy.

When they got to the questioning, Josiah Tyler proved to be an arrogant old codger. Cody took an instant dislike to him even above the fact that his alleged behavior with Miss Samuels had been repulsive. Tyler even had the temerity to suggest that Miss Samuels had made the first move. Cody had met the woman when she came for a recent appointment with his supervising partner, and he just didn't see that as likely.

Beside him, Nick looked tough and implacable. He sat there silently, whispered a bunch of nothing in Cody's ear a couple of times, and did pretty much everything Cody'd wanted him to do. Just as an office secretary brought in coffee, Nick slid over a note. It read, ' _Use the girl.'_

Cody didn't know what he meant and glanced back at Nick. He followed the pilot's gaze to the woman who was setting out the coffee and realized immediately what the pilot was thinking.

"Mr. Tyler, this nice lady just gave you a cup of coffee; what do you think of her outfit?"

One of the attorneys objected, "Mr. Allen, that question is completely irrelevant."

"I disagree. Your client stated that Miss Samuels incited their relationship. I'm merely trying to ascertain how she did that. Perhaps it was how Miss Samuels was dressed. I'm trying to elicit what type of clothing that Mr. Tyler finds eye-catching." He turned back to Tyler. "Sir, what do you think of this woman's outfit?"

"Unprofessional."

Cody was intrigued by the term, especially since he thought the woman looked fine. "How so? Can you elaborate?"

Another attorney tried to object, but his egotistical client warmed to the topic and very much intended to answer. "Up at the top? Her blouse is not buttoned all the way to the neck. And there's a little lace up there, too. The blouse is white. I can see the outline of her bra or camisole or whatever she's wearing underneath."

"Mr. Tyler, I advise you not to answer this line of questioning!"

Tyler looked at his lawyer with asperity. "Don't you care how your staff present themselves? Look at her. That skirt is entirely too tight, and it stops above her knee. Those heels make her look like a prostitute."

This was dynamite. Cody glanced at the court reporter who was getting every word. The lady who brought the coffee looked around, red-faced and embarrassed. Her hand settled delicately at her neck, trying to cover the embroidered collar.

"Mr. Tyler! Not another word. Mr. Allen, I want that stricken from the record."

"You advised your client not to answer, but he proceeded to do so against advice of Counsel. I can't imagine any judge in the state would sustain that objection." Cody looked at the court reporter and proceeded to dictate exactly what the poor secretary was wearing that Tyler found so provocative. Then his opponents abruptly concluded the proceeding.

At that point, Cody stood and gathered his files. Beside him, Nick looked relaxed yet ruthless. He was perfect. Cody shut the briefcase and smiled at his hosts. "Contact us when you're ready to discuss terms." With that parting shot, he turned and led Nick out of the room.

They remained silent until they were back in the chopper, headphones on, rotors roaring above them. He glanced over at the pilot who was fighting a smile even as he flipped various switches. Cody bit his lips to keep from grinning.

Finally, Nick stole a glance. "You get to destroy jerks like that and you hate your job? That was great."

Cody's grin erupted; it was uncontrollable. "It's not always that cut and dried."

"The guy was an ass. I feel sorry for those other lawyers that have to defend him."

"Right now, I bet they do too. You were perfect."

Nick waved it off and unexpectedly took them into the air. Cody didn't even have time to worry about it before they were off the ground. Nick talked to whatever ground control he had to check in with and did all the necessary early flight activities and then looked back at Cody. "I just pretended to be my grandmother when I was trying to get away with something. She never bought a word I said."

Cody couldn't help but laugh. What a day this had turned into.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick eyed the landing zone as they approached the airfield. His passenger, while still a little nervous, was visibly calmer and had actually spent most of the flight working. Nick cleared his throat and thumbed the microphone switch. "You might want to stow that; we're about to land.

Cody looked up and out, "Already?"

Nick bit down on a smile. He considered it a huge accomplishment that Cody was no longer _completely_ terrified of helicopters. "'Fraid so. Or I could take us back for another circle around the Channel Islands."

Cody's grin was easy, "No, it's getting late. And I won't be sad to get away from this noise. How do you stand it?"

Nick pursed his lips to keep from laughing. "Don't even notice it, guy."

Cody smiled back, "That's some pretty willful ignorance, buddy."

"Just part of my life, man." After their earlier conversation, Nick was a little surprised that Cody called him _buddy_ , but he didn't mention it. For his part, it did seem like Cody had become something more than a passenger after Nick's turn as a pretend lawyer. There was an ease between them that was unusual for Nick. He tended to rub new acquaintances the wrong way as he generally called a spade a spade. As a result, he didn't have many close friends. But the whole bogus-attorney scam made it feel like he and Cody kind of were a team.

Cody shook his head with a wide smile as he started shoving his notes in the brief case. They were less than twenty feet off the ground when he glanced out the window again. Nick was busy, but, concerned about his passenger's reaction, his peripheral vision caught Cody's white face as they quickly approached the LZ.

Nick did his best to be gentle, and in a few seconds, he was shutting down the engines. Beside him, he could feel Cody's abrupt anxiety begin to ease. Nick started the post flight checklist as Cody gathered his belongings.

"So what happens now?"

"You're ready to go, man."

"That's it? I don't have to sign anything? Review your singing or whatever?"

Nick was unable to stop his grin. This guy was sharp and quick and had a good sense of humor. "Probably be better if you didn't mention that actually. Make all my other flights jealous." Nick kept working, studiously ignoring the smile lighting up the face beside him.

"But that was the most memorable part of the whole flight."

Not wanting to remind him of the utter terror that preceded it, Nick cocked a brow. "More memorable than Ned Newton, the new _associate_ at your firm?"

This time, it was Cody trying to suppress his amusement. "Yeah, that part was pretty good, too…but not technically part of the _flight_."

By then, Nick had finished his checklist. "Jerry'll send the bill to your office. You're done, guy."

Cody sat still for a moment, "You know, this day went a whole lot better than it could have. Much better than I expected. That's because of you. I owe you."

Uncomfortable with the serious turn, Nick shrugged and shook his head, "All part of the service. Don't sweat it."

Cody's smile was gentle, "For you maybe, but a pretty big deal to me." He paused, "Thank you."

Nick didn't want to be dismissive of the gratitude, but he wanted to return them to easier footing. "You're welcome. Now get outta here; been a long day for you."

Cody grinned, "You need any help here?"

"Just have to drop some stuff in the office, finish up the paperwork."

They climbed out of the chopper and firmly shut the doors before ambling over to the office. Nick glanced around the empty parking lot, "Where's your car?"

Cody grinned ruefully and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm on the other side of that building, by a chain link fence and some trees. I was so nervous this morning that I couldn't find the office, and I kept driving around and around the airfield. Finally, I just parked the car and asked somebody. Turned out, I was pretty close, so I left it where it was."

Nick pulled up his mental map of the airfield. "It's kinda dark over there. You okay to find your way back?"

"Oh sure. I was turned around, but I know where I left my car."

By this time, they were standing by the office door. Nick faced the man he'd expected to be a huge pain in the butt, but Cody had turned out to be a good guy. And Nick had found out a little about being a lawyer. "Well…good luck with the case."

"It's pretty well locked up. Thanks for your help. It was nice having a little back up at the table."

"Hey, it was a big promotion for a grunt like me."

Cody shrugged nonchalantly, "My pleasure."

"So maybe I'll see ya around, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe. I hope so."

After they shook hands, Nick briefly watched him walk away and then unlocked the office door. At the desk, he signed in his flight and on-the-ground time, along with mileage. He picked up a couple of things from his cubby and headed for the 'Vette behind the hanger.

A tingle of unease raised goose bumps under his collar. Glancing around briefly as he slid into the leather seat, he tried to shrug off the sudden feeling of disquiet. When that didn't work, he tried to figure out what was messing with his head. Nothing seemed out of place or unusual, but in the darkness, it would be child's play to hide in the shadows.

Finally, he started the car and put it in reverse, trying to enjoy her throaty roar and dismiss the sense of unease. His eyes followed the path of her headlights, hoping to see something—anything—out of place. But nothing jumped out, and he finally decided to just let it go. Probably nothing anyway.

Except…

Except that instinct had been developed in the Vietnamese jungle. A feeling like this had saved his hide a dozen times. Occasionally, it had saved people around him, too. And just because he didn't use it very often these days didn't mean that it was rusty. It wasn't something he could just ignore.

Maybe…maybe he'd just take a little drive around the field. See if anything turned up.

Puttering in a 'Vette wasn't easy to do; she loved to run, but Nick kept her creeping along the open spaces of the airfield. He turned left at the next hanger and crawled past the metal siding. As he got beyond the last corner of the building, he looked left again and saw Cody by his car. His passenger was about a hundred yards away, parked under some overhanging jacaranda trees by the airfield fence. Nick stopped to watch as Cody fiddled with his keys…and two shadows jumped out.

Nick's instincts roared as he floored the pedal and swung the car in their direction. Three faces flashed his way as he sped toward them. Cody stood still, startled and bewildered, but the other two immediately fled around the end of the Volvo.

Nick flew past Cody in pursuit, but quickly realized it was a fool's errand. The two shadows split up and disappeared in the darkness of the buildings and machines scattered around the airfield. Nick thumped the steering wheel in frustration and turned the car back toward Cody.

He found him standing at the back end of his car, one hand on the roof for support, the other still holding his briefcase. He shielded his eyes in the 'Vette's headlights until Nick turned them off. "Cody? You all right, man?"

"Nick? Boy, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Nick jumped out of the car, "You okay?"

"Yeah. I mean…yeah. Those two guys came out of nowhere, and they had a knife, and…"

"What'd they want?"

"My wallet and the car keys."

Nick started mentally listing the people at the airfield who might be boneheaded enough to pull something this asinine. Had to be a crime of opportunity as most people were gone by this time of night. Plus, there were plenty of better cars to steal than a Volvo. Hard to look cool tooling around in a boxy station wagon. And mugging someone at an empty airfield was likely gonna bring a pretty low yield on the return, but there were a few idiots around who might try something that stupid.

"Nick?"

Nick stirred from his pondering, "Huh?"

"I asked what you're doing here. I didn't look that lost, did I? That you had to follow me to my car? Not that I'm not grateful, but…"

Nick fumbled for an explanation. He waved his hands in the air in opposing circles, "There was just something, ya know, and I couldn't…" He trailed off at how ridiculous it sounded. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you got to your car okay."

Cody's face was skeptical. "Seems a little above and beyond, but I'm not gonna object." He smiled, "How 'bout a beer and some food? My treat."

Nick hesitated. He wasn't a guy who just sat around jawing with people. He might go out with a few of the pilots or ground crew occasionally, but he wasn't one for clubbing. If he was looking for company, he had a couple or three places he stopped at, but it wasn't a regular evening activity for him. But…it had been a hell of a day, and it would be nice to unwind with the guy who'd been through it with him. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

"I'm not familiar with this part of town; you know a place?"


	4. Chapter 4

Cody climbed in the Volvo and blew out a deep breath. He backed the car out and turned to follow Nick. Trailing the classic Corvette—the plate read 'NICSVET', Cody gripped the steering wheel to stop the trembling in his hands as the adrenaline rush slowly faded.

Approaching his car, he hadn't been thinking of anything in particular, just that the day'd turned out so much better than he'd expected. The helicopter flight that had held such terror that morning…well, he didn't think he'd ever enjoy flying in the contraptions, but he doubted he'd get the shakes like that again. Which was all thanks to an understanding pilot who had both distracted Cody and showed him that his unreasonable fears were just that: unreasonable.

Another big unknown had been the deposition. Not that Cody had never been assigned such tasks before, but it was his first solo outing at Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow. If he'd screwed this up, his future at the firm would have become more difficult. The competition between associates was brutal. But, unlike the flight, at least Cody'd known what he was getting into. And because of that, he'd thought to ask Nick for some backup.

And the pilot had come through. With flying colors. Coming across as a strong, stubborn, difficult litigator was exactly what Cody needed to balance the scales and give himself a boost of self-confidence.

So that's what he'd been thinking about as he approached his car. The idea of anyone being in the area seemed laughable as the airfield felt quiet and deserted. Then out of nowhere, two guys jumped from the shadows, and one was waving a knife. Cody flung himself back—right into the side of the car—and tried to reason with them. They demanded his wallet and the keys…and then suddenly they were all three blinded by headlights and deafened by the roar of an engine.

It all happened so fast. As the two hoods fled, Cody was left wondering who kept a drag racer with no muffler at the airfield. And in no time at all, the car returned and morphed into Nick driving a restored convertible. Was that the car that had sounded like a jet? Must have been as no one else showed up to be Cody's savior. When Cody asked how Nick happened to be there, Nick had turned in a really good impression of the maître'd at an Italian restaurant that he and Janet used to frequent. Hands and arms going in all directions.

Who _was_ this guy? Three times today, Nick had saved his ass. What kind of person did the Captain America thing on a daily basis? And in so many guises? Cody's first thought was that the guy was a reckless, cynical, reticent pilot…who happened to sing silly songs and give guided tours from the air…who could act like the strong silent type at the drop of a hat…who could size up sleaze ball defendants and point out their weak spots…who could swoop in like a super hero in the nick of time and save the clueless attorney who wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. Whoever the hell Nick Ryder was, Cody wanted and needed to spend more time with him so he could find out. He'd never met anyone quite like him.

After ten minutes driving, they pulled in the parking lot of a bar—TheCockpit. Place didn't look like much, but Cody had been in worse places in college. A few times anyway. And besides, how good did it need to _look_ as long as they had decent alcohol and halfway edible food?

They sat in a booth, and after downing half his beer in a few swallows, Cody finally felt himself begin to wind down. Despite his curiosity about Nick, Cody didn't want to scare him off, so he put off the interrogation. After their burgers arrived and they exchanged a few observations of the day, suddenly Cody found himself talking more about his own life than hearing about Nick's. All this stuff about Janet just came pouring out. Cody wasn't sure how it happened exactly, but he'd known lawyers that could get clients to start talking with barely any effort. Maybe Nick had the same talent. Or maybe Cody was just exhausted and had drunk too much beer on an empty stomach. And he really needed to talk about it—her. Not like he had anyone else offering to listen.

Suddenly, Nick seemed more alert, and he interrupted Cody's monologue. "I'll be right back." Then he was gone.

Confused by Nick's abrupt departure, Cody turned to watch him walk toward the back of the room wondering if he'd said something to offend…or if Nick just really needed to hit the head. A couple of minutes stretched to four or five, and Cody started to get antsy. Unless Nick was sick, it shouldn't have taken him this long to use the john. So…

Cody followed the path he'd seen Nick take. He stuck his head in the men's room, but it turned up empty. Back in the hallway, he looked around and found another couple of doors. One led to an office, and one led outside where he found Nick being restrained by two guys while getting beaten by a third.

Cody didn't stop to think. He took a flying leap and landed on the back of the big guy who was whaling on Nick. In moments, it was a melee, and Cody felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage and bone when his fist met the hoodlum's nose. Of course, he got a knee to the abdomen for his trouble, but he pretended that it didn't hurt and kept swinging.

Suddenly, the three troublemakers apparently decided they'd had enough and walked off. Cody wanted to say they hurried, but that wasn't actually true. When they got to the corner of the building, the biggest guy—the one Cody had nailed—turned back, shaking a fist. "Stay outta this, Ryder! You hear me?"

Beside him, Nick sneered, "You touch her again, and we've got a serious problem."

The three gorillas disappeared around the corner…and Nick groaned as he slumped against the wall.

Cody stared briefly, having been completely fooled by Nick's bravado, but he wrapped an arm around his companion's back and helped him stay on his feet. "You okay?"

After a second of careful breathing, Nick ground out, "Yeah. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

A pause, "Yeah. Damn, I think he broke my nose."

Cody was trying to get a good look at his friend. Nick's nose was bleeding along with his lip and a cut over one eye which was swelling. And the way he was standing, Cody thought he might have some rib or abdominal injuries. "What was that all about?"

"Remember when I said I open my mouth, and the damnedest things just come out?"

"What did that turkey disagree with?"

"Something about a girl he's been knocking around."

"He's beating her? Did you call the police? They're trained to handle this sort of thing."

"Yeah, a piece of paper telling the guy to back off doesn't usually stop assholes like him."

Cody wanted to argue, but he knew the realities of an often ugly world. Instead, Cody decided to focus on a fixable problem. "Where's the nearest hospital?"

"Pffft. I'm fine. Just let me—"

"If it's really broken, you'll need to get your nose set at least."

Nick winced briefly. "Damn. I hate hospitals."

They ended up at Northridge Medical Center, and sure enough, Nick had broken his nose again, making it seven times now.

"How'd you know it was broken?"

Nick glanced over at Cody leaning against the wall of the exam room. "After I got back from Vietnam, I was an M.P. Occupational hazard."

Cody winced, "I broke my nose when I was nine. One of the boys in Little League slung the bat…right into my face. Never really played much after that."

Nick eyed him suspiciously, "You don't like baseball? Are you some kind of communist or something?"

Cody looked put upon, like he'd heard the objections before. "I _like_ the game just fine…as long as I don't have to play. Sure, take me out to the ballgame…but not on the field."

Nicked huffed in disapproval, but knowing how bad his nose and ribs were going to be hurting the next few days, he understood why a kid might not want to play after an injury like that.

The nurse came in with a clipboard and a monotone voice that demonstrated her complete boredom. "All right, Mr. Ryder. Just to remind you: your ribs and chest are going to be sore for the next few days. You're going to want to take small breaths, but fight that urge. Take ten deep breaths every hour to keep from developing pneumonia. Take Tylenol for pain. Call your doctor if you get a fever, develop bruising on your chest, or start coughing a lot. Get to a hospital immediately if you develop severe chest pain or start coughing up blood. Also if you have chills, shortness of breath, or get lightheaded. Remember that broken ribs are nothing to mess around with. Same goes for your nose. Sign here." She passed him the clipboard.

Nick nodded wearily. She didn't realize she was preaching to the choir. He could have recited the instructions from memory if she'd given him the chance. He signed about seventeen forms, and she finally told him he could go.

Out in the parking lot, Cody insisted on driving Nick to his apartment. Nick tried to tell him he was fine and could go back to TheCockpit where they'd left Cody's Volvo, but there was no persuading the guy.

Nick gave directions to his place in Oxnard, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. He wasn't used to people coming to his place, looking out for him, and it felt weird that this guy he'd met only twelve hours ago would know where he lived. On the other hand, Cody had jumped into a fight he knew nothing about just because Nick was getting the worst of it. He had to admit he really liked Cody and kind of hoped they might become real friends. If they weren't already. Nick hadn't felt this immediately comfortable and easy with anyone since high school when he'd met Deke Martin on the first day of football practice.

Cody parked the 'Vette, and Nick directed him on how to cover it with the tarp. Cody snorted and tried to hide his grin.

Nick got annoyed, "Hey! I worked hard on this car. She's a classic, and it takes patience and care to keep her looking and running this good."

Cody nodded cooperatively as he slid the cover on, but he was still smiling in amusement. Nick decided to ignore him. "Come on up; you can call a cab."

Once inside, Cody looked around curiously. "Nice place."

Nick held up a finger, "My ribs can't take a joke right now." He glanced around in distaste, "It's a place to live, and that's about it." He handed Cody the phone book.

Cody started thumbing through the yellow pages, "I've seen worse."

By this time, Nick had figured out that Cody had a wealthy background, and heck, he was a _lawyer_. Guys like him made good money, but Nick decided not to bring it up. Cody had been a standup guy tonight when he'd saved Nick's bacon. Unusual for anyone, much less a lawyer.

The cab company must have had someone in the neighborhood as the cab arrived in no time flat. Nick stuck out his hand, "Thanks. I owe you."

But Cody shook his head, "After what you did for me today, we're good."

Nick thought back on the day; the few things he'd done for Cody didn't seem like such a big deal to him, but maybe it mattered to Cody. "Whatever you say, man. All I know is I'd be a lot worse off if you hadn't jumped in."

"If I'd had a different pilot this morning, I might've passed out on my way to the deposition."

Nick breathed heavy, "I asked you not to make me laugh."

Cody grinned in response. The cab beeped again, and Cody's smiled dimmed slightly. "Maybe Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow will send me out for another deposition. Since I did such a good job today."

Nick smiled, "Just ask for me."

Cody nodded, "I'll do that." Then he turned and walked out of the apartment. Nick watched him get in the cab before it drove away. He leaned back against the door, feeling all the aches and pains from the fight. He was gonna be uncomfortable for the next few days and walked over to the phone to call the girl—Donna—and warn her about the gorilla—Mickey. But despite the discomfort, it seemed like the day as a whole had turned out pretty good. And he hoped that Cody's firm would call again. That would be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of weeks later, Nick had his arms elbow deep in the engine of a Bell 205. Almost exactly the same bird he'd flown in 'Nam, this old girl was a good friend he enjoyed spending time with. And he could take her apart and put her back together by touch alone.

He was still having some discomfort from his ribs, but the bruising had faded and his nose looked okay so he would be flying again in a few days. The boss wouldn't let anyone take up customers when he looked like a punching bag. Might scare away business.

And everything had turned out okay with Mickey the Gorilla who ended up in jail when he got into it with a police lieutenant named Quinlan down at the beach. Turned out there'd been a couple of warrants out on him. Guess the lawyer had been right about calling the cops after all.

Speaking of the boss, Jerry Pitts walked up as Nick uncoupled two of the reduction gears and pulled them out.

"Hey, Ryder? What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Putting this lady back together."

"Hand this off to Lou. You've got a flight."

Nick wiped at some sweat with his forearm; his hands were filthy with grease and dirt. "I thought I was grounded for another couple days?"

"Special request for your services."

Nick squinted at him in confusion. "Me?"

"Yeah, shocked the hell outta me, too. But she repeated your name twice even and spelled it, just to make sure I understood. It ain't a mistake."

And suddenly, Nick thought back to the night he'd gotten the beating that had him grounded. "Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow?"

"Got it in one. You must have made a big impression on that fraidy-cat lawyer. I like repeat business, Nick. Keep up the good work." Jerry grinned and glanced around, "And clean up this mess."

The following morning, Nick climbed out of the 'Vette and grabbed the dry-cleaning bag. As he walked into the office, he heard a couple of wolf whistles from the assembled pilots and mechanics.

"Hey, Ryder, hot date tonight?"

Nick didn't even spare them a glance. "None of your business."

"Maybe he'll take her to The Tailwind _."_

"I don't know; The Cockpit has that _ambiance_ , you know."

They trailed him as Nick slid his paperwork into Jerry's inbox. "I'm not leaving my good jacket here in the office where some _accident_ might happen to it. I know how you guys operate."

"Aw, c'mon, Nick. Would we do something like that?"

"In a heartbeat."

Nick pushed out the door of the office and ambled over to the Bell 206 Jerry had assigned him for the day's flight. He opened the pilot's door and hung the bag containing his good jacket on the bulkhead behind the seat. Then he grabbed the clipboard and began the pre-flight checklist.

Today, Cody knew exactly where he was going. He even saw the _multiple_ signs directing him to Mugu Charter Service. He pulled the Volvo into the parking area and got out, locking the doors. He glanced around briefly for light fixtures, remembering what'd happened the last time they got back late.

He stepped into the office. "Morning."

The guy at the desk looked up and smiled, "Mr. Allen, right?"

Cody grinned, "That's right. How are you, Mr. Pitts?"

"I'm just Jerry."

"And I'm Cody."

"Yes, but you're a client."

"Just a guy, man."

"Just a guy…who wants _Nick Ryder_ to fly him up to Stockton? You sure about that? Feeling okay?"

Just as he said that, Nick walked in from outside. "Don't be bad-mouthing me, Jerry; I got enough trouble with my reputation already. Don't need anybody else running me down." He stopped beside Cody, "Hey. You ready?"

Cody smiled, only a little worried about the flight. "Yeah. Whenever you are."

"Then let's trip the light fantastic, big guy."

Jerry held up a warning finger, "That's my chopper you're tripping with. Be safe."

Nick nodded, and he led Cody out to the same white helicopter they'd used the last time. At least Cody thought it was the same. It was white and had four doors; other than that…?

Without asking, he climbed into the front seat beside Nick. "How you feeling? About healed up?"

Nick slipped on his Ray-bans and started flipping switches. "Pretty much. Ribs still a bit iffy, but I'm fine other than that."

"Good."

"How are things at _our_ firm?"

Cody smiled at the joke, "Okay. Partners were pretty happy with that slam dunk on the Tyler deposition. Upped my profile a bit."

Nick nodded approvingly and turned a blinding grin on Cody. "Terrific. You deserve it."

"Not so sure about that. But they're sending me out on another field trip."

"That's too bad." Nick tried to frown and sound sorry, but he didn't do a very good job.

Cody's laugh was low and slow. "Yeah. Isn't it."

"You didn't _volunteer,_ did you?"

"Not by Webster's official definition, per se."

Nick fought a grin, but once again, it seemed to get the best of him.

And so, the two of them settled into a bit of routine. Cody and Nick would fly somewhere to take a deposition every week or two, landing all over the state during the next few months. And Nick always happened to have a good jacket on the days he flew with Cody. Just in case.

At Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow, Cody developed a reputation, and he quickly became the go-to-guy for long distance depositions—not just for _his_ supervising partner, but for the other partners as well. Which was fine with Cody as it not only gave him a better reputation at the firm but also a whole day to spend with Nick. _And_ time away from the shark tank at his office. Once he got an assignment, his first step was to have his assistant call Mugu Charters. By now, she knew without asking that Mr. Allen preferred Nick Ryder to be his pilot. After that was arranged, he went to whichever lawyer was handling the case and asked about relevant issues regarding the client, the case, and the opposing attorneys.

Once he and Nick were in the air, he would discuss everything with Nick who had sworn on his mother's grave to be the best pretend lawyer in California. Which meant he would never mention a word to another soul about what they were doing. During the flight, the two of them would come up with a plan of approach.

In Nick, Cody found a guy without any kind of hidden agenda who would give it to him straight without pulling punches. If he thought Cody had things figured wrong, he said so. But if Cody still disagreed, Nick would concede that Cody was the real lawyer and shut up without any hurt feelings. And he was kind enough not to say, 'I told you so,' on the occasions when he was right and Cody was wrong. Most of the time anyway.

Surprisingly enough, for a guy who tended to pretty damn plain spoken, Nick was excellent at stepping into any type of role. Depending on the opposing counsel and clients, Nick and Cody developed several different guises.

As Nick was only a pretend lawyer, he never interacted directly with other attorneys or witnesses, but he played his part as Cody's sidekick to the hilt. Sometimes he was the overbearing, pain-the-ass tyrant to Cody's long-suffering, struggling new-kid-in-the-office. Other times, the situation called for him to be the sniveling sycophant to Cody's put-upon professional. On one particularly memorable occasion, Nick played the demanding T-crossing, I-dotting bureaucrat while Cody was the overwhelmed, _are-you-serious_ associate who just needed to finish the deposition so the day would be over.

While the results weren't always as spectacular as their first effort, Cody figured out one day that the depositions he and Nick brought back produced positive results for the clients of Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow about eighty percent of the time. Which wasn't bad for a job he still didn't really like. About the only enjoyable parts of his work were the good results for the clients, the accolades he received from the partners and jealous associates of the firm…and the time he got to spend with Nick which now extended to having dinner a couple nights a week and usually something fun on the weekend as well.


	6. Chapter 6

Nick had already hung his good jacket in the chopper and was working through the pre-flight when he heard Jerry whistle from the office. Nick smiled, knowing that Cody had arrived, and he wondered what kind of case was on tap for today.

Before Cody, Nick had always looked at lawyers as bottom-feeding scum-suckers, but he had quickly revised that opinion. Except for helicopters, Cody was an easy-going risk-taker who could charm a pig into a barbeque. On several occasions, he'd convinced Nick to try one thing or another that was completely out of left field. Sometimes the plan worked, sometimes not; but the attempt was always memorable…and usually a pretty good time. Nick had to admit he had a lot of fun putting one over on these big time, smart-ass lawyers.

Nick generally saw himself as a grab-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of guy. If something needed saying, needed doing, needed fixing, Nick did his best to get it done. He'd gotten in hot water on many occasions for not being more diplomatic, but around Cody, he was beginning to see that sometimes a different approach might work just as well. And according to his friend, Nick had helped Cody secure some justice for the clients of Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow. That sat pretty good with Nick's well developed sense of right and wrong. Of course, he wasn't sure what would happen if he ever disagreed with Cody's side of a case. If Cody's client was less than savory. He really didn't want to think about that because…

Well…because Cody had settled in a place in Nick's heart that was reserved for pretty special people. Deke Martin from high school. A guy in Vietnam who'd been killed about a month before Nick shipped home…and he didn't think about that anymore. It took a long time before Nick was able to let anyone else get close, and the guy that finally managed it was Doug Skinner who he'd met here at Mugu Charters. Doug had retired last year, and Nick had finally gotten a decent apartment, so he wasn't sleeping on Doug's sofa much anymore. But the guy was still aces, and the closest thing Nick had to a father figure.

And now there was Cody Allen. Nick had never imagined his best friend would be a rich kid from back east. Who was a _lawyer_. On the surface, they had less than nothing in common, but often Nick only needed a glance from Cody to know what he was thinking and act accordingly. Or vice versa. They had pulled off some very sweet scams on opposing attorneys and their clients as a result. Nick likened it to the exhilaration of soloing for the first time.

And that it had happened so quickly and effortlessly was the amazing part of the whole deal. Right from the start, Cody had been able to talk Nick into almost anything, even pretending to be a lawyer. And Nick was pretty sure that what they were doing was technically illegal. Of course, he wasn't _practicing_ law, but still. And then there was the way Cody would just throw himself out there…and expect Nick to catch him. It was a little terrifying and a hell of a ride. Anyway…

Nick finished up what he could of the preflight and headed to the office. He opened the door, expecting to see Cody's wide grin…and instead found his friend looking grim, surrounded by three stuffed shirts who seemed both impatient and demanding.

Nick quickly sized up the situation and put his professional face on. "Mr. Allen, welcome back. You've brought company today."

Cody nodded briefly, looking a little nervous and conflicted but trying to hide it.

Jerry was behind the desk. "Nick, I need to talk to you."

"Sure." He nodded at the four men, "Excuse me."

But Jerry spoke so everyone could hear. "I was just explaining to these gentlemen that, based on the reservation that was called in yesterday, we were expecting just Mr. Allen. We only have the 206 available today, right?"

Nick ran through the open birds in his head. Something was wrong with that 205 again. Whatever Lou had done to fix her hadn't worked for very long, and she was running rough again. From Jerry's face, he could see that's what the boss was asking; should they chance her?

Nick smiled inwardly at the only other chopper available: his own personal ride. "The Sikorsky's running pretty good."

"No."

"Really, she's fine."

"No."

Nick sighed, "Then the 206 is all we have. Everything else is out or grounded today."

Jerry shook his head wryly at Nick's suggestion, but he turned back to their clients. "If you _all_ insist on going, it's going to be pretty tight in the back seat, but this is the only helicopter we have available. If you'd given us a little more warning about the increased number in your party…"

A chubby, medium tall man with wavy brown hair and a paisley tie folded his arms, clearly displeased. "One would think you would keep more than one helicopter around for emergencies."

Jerry's smile was fake, but it was still a smile. Sort of. "One: a chopper on the ground isn't making me any money. And two: this isn't an emergency." And to Nick's utter astonishment, Jerry continued, "Perhaps you'd like to see Mr. Ryder's Sikorsky? It just might fill your requirements."

Paisley tie nodded smugly in satisfaction. "Yes. Please."

Nick smiled happily at the idea of taking his baby instead of the boring little Bell, and led them out of the office. They walked through the hangar and out the other side (because Jerry wouldn't let him keep it where the customers might see her.) Once they got through the door, Nick looked proudly at his grand old lady, _The Screaming Mimi._

He turned back to his four passengers who wore looks ranging from consternation to outright horror. Cody looked just as bad as he had on that very first day. Jerry was standing back, his hand not quite covering his amusement at their reactions.

Paisley tie was trying to cover dismay and still look large and in charge. "Uh, well, I would imagine that a… _helicopter?_ …of this size would…uh… _cost_ significantly more than the smaller one. Right?" He looked desperately back at Jerry.

Jerry took a second, making the loudmouth jerk squirm, but he finally conceded the point. "It is a heavier craft, so yes, it is a more expensive flight."

Paisley looked relieved. "Ah, well, we don't have permission for that, so—"

Jerry looked innocent, "We can call your office to check if they'd allow the extra charge."

"No, no! We'll squeeze in the smaller craft."

Jerry nodded and directed them back into the hangar. Nick blew out a breath of disappointment.

Cody continued to stare at _Mimi_. "Does that thing actually get off the ground?"

Nick huffed indignantly, "Of course, she does!"

Cody glanced at him, baffled, "Really?"

Nick worked very hard at keeping his temper. "Yes, really." He looked back fondly at his baby, "She's a classic, just like my 'Vette."

"Yeah, but I'm not afraid that your car might kill me."

Nick forcibly turned Cody around and shoved him back toward the door.

"You really fly that thing? Crazier than I thought."

Nick shot him a look that promised payback, but even he had to admit that _Mimi_ didn't look like much. People might think he was nuts to trust a machine that old and bruised to lift him off the ground and return him safely to Earth, but he accepted all her faults and scars because that's what love did to a guy. And he loved that chopper.

As they trailed Jerry and the Slimebags (as Nick was starting to think of the rest of the lawyers collectively), Cody shook his head, "I'm sorry about these guys. They just showed up at my office door this morning, saying they were coming with me. That they wanted to see me in action and learn my secrets."

"Don't guess we can introduce 'em to Ned Newton."

"Yeah, then I'd be fired and disbarred." He sounded discouraged.

Nick reached up to squeeze Cody's shoulder. "Don't sweat it; I'm just window dressing, man. Today, you're flying solo, and I'll be sitting on the roof bored to death."

"I guess I'll just have an off day."

"C'mon, buddy, you're a great lawyer. Show 'em how it's done."

Cody shook his head, "I'm a decent lawyer. It's just easier with you there."

Nick felt a little flame of warmth tickle his insides. He looked over and found Cody smiling at him without any tease. He couldn't help his return grin, "I enjoy it, too."

They had come back to the main door of the hangar, and Jerry and The Slimebags were standing by the Bell. Cody sighed, "Well, this has turned into a rotten day. Let's just get it over with."


	7. Chapter 7

The flight to Fresno was relatively quick. Normally, Cody would've spent the time discussing the case with Nick, but he was preoccupied trying to figure out why his fellow associates had chosen to accompany him. A couple of ideas came to mind: one, they were jealous and wanted to find out his secret (which could _never_ happen) so that they could replicate it and score their own points with the partners; or two, the supervising partners wanted the same information and had sicced their guppies on Cody.

Cody would be the first to admit that since he'd started flying with Nick, his success rate had gone through the roof, and he could attribute it to no other reason than teaming up with the pilot. But, of course, sharing that information with any of the back-stabbers at the firm would put him on the streets in less time than it took to confess. But surprisingly, Cody felt no guilt about bending the rules. He and Nick had gotten a little justice for their clients, and aside from his friendship with Nick, that was pretty much the only part of his life that was enjoyable since he'd moved to California.

Cody noticed a slight change in the constant roar of the chopper blades, and he glanced over at Nick who was plugging in Cody's headphones. He hadn't even realized they weren't turned on. "Are we there already?"

"Pretty close."

"I really am sorry about this. I didn't—"

"No big deal." Nick briefly glanced toward the back seat and then out the front. "Listen, those guys have been running you down the whole flight. They're not here to back you up."

Cody offered a wry smile. Nick had made sure Cody wouldn't hear, but he'd listened to every word from the back seat. "I already knew that, but thanks."

Nick bumped Cody's arm with his elbow and went back to landing the chopper. By this time, Cody was almost used to flying. All these trips with Nick had rendered his phobia relatively moot. He was the soul of serenity in front of the other associates as Nick settled the helicopter on the landing pad.

Cody and the guppies were almost to the roof door when Cody heard Nick jogging up from behind.

"Hey, Cody!"

Cody turned, worried that something might be wrong. "Yeah?"

"You—"

"Excuse me? Did you just call him, 'Cody'?"

Cody glanced back at loud-mouth Miles Mosher.

"Yeah?" Nick sounded baffled. Cody felt the same way. What was Miles on about now?

"His name is _Mister_ _Allen._ He's paying the freight today, Bub, so treat him with a little respect."

Having seen Nick's temper in action on several occasions, Cody braced himself for the inevitable explosion and got ready to repair the damage.

Instead, Nick visibly swallowed his anger, the Raybans hiding his eyes even as resentment rippled across his jaw. "You're absolutely right, sir. I forgot my place."

Knowing exactly why Nick was working so hard to keep from lashing out, Cody lost his cool instead. "Shut up, Miles! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Evidently, I'm the guy who needs to tag along so you maintain the reputation and dignity of Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow. Have a little pride in yourself and your firm, Allen."

"What does pride get me?"

"Maybe a little self-respect."

"I have self-respect because I do good work for this firm and our clients. I don't have to be a snob about it. Nick is my regular pilot and has become my friend which is more than I can say about you jerks. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll pay my _friend_ some respect and see what he needs to tell me." He turned his back on his co-workers.

Nick was fighting a grin. "Uh, this file slid down between the seat and the console. Thought you might need it."

Cody glanced back at the other associates who appeared to be a little ashamed. Maybe. He turned away from them again and smiled briefly at Nick who handed him the file. "Thanks."

Nick nodded slightly, still trying not to grin. He leaned in and whispered, "You're a great lawyer; knock 'em dead, pal."

Cody grimaced, "It's just..."

"Imagine me standing right behind you. I've got your back, man."

Cody began to visualize the scene, him at the table deposing the opposing team, Nick behind him like a hitman, ready to break bones on Cody's say-so. Actually… "Right."

Once they got in the stairwell, Cody heard whispers behind his back. When they got on the elevator, Cody dropped his briefcase and shoved Mosher against the wall, getting in his face. "This is my show, got it? I didn't ask you guys to come, I don't need you here, and I better not hear a word out of you."

"Back off, Allen! This is Townsend's case, and he's _my_ supervising partner. I'm not gonna sit there like a bump on a log if I think you're screwing up!"

"Shut up and listen, Mosher; Townsend didn't send _you_ to get this deposition. If he'd wanted you to be involved, you would've been. So do what I tell you and back off. If this goes south, I'm gonna let Townsend know exactly how _you_ screwed this up."

Mosher's eyes showed a little apprehension. Cody pressed his advantage, and his glance took in all of his coworkers. "I'm gonna say this one more time: I don't want to hear a word from you three. We go in, I'll introduce you, and you'll sit at the table and not make a sound. I mean it. Unless I specifically ask you a question, I don't want to hear a peep out of you. Got it?"

Mosher had regained his composure, but he nodded once.

Cody backed off and shot his cuffs, resettling his jacket. He picked up his briefcase and got ready to get off the elevator. One more look of challenge to the other associates did not bring any response, and Cody felt ready to take on the world.

And for the most part, that's exactly what he did. Cody did all the talking and questioning of the opposing side—just like always. The three associates functioned in the same role Nick had assumed on their first deposition…only with far less flair and attitude. Still, while it took three of them, the effect was the same, and Cody occasionally leaned over to one or another of them and whispered for them to look intimidating with a heavy glower or stare. Meanwhile, Cody was genial and understanding in a conversational approach to the questioning. And, despite everything, it worked. While the witness did not come right out and admit his error, any uninvolved, competent human being would conclude that Townsend's client was the harmed party and find fault accordingly.

As they headed out of the office, Cody could feel the confused vibes rolling off the guppies. He wondered if they'd figured out yet how he'd used them as a prop, a goad to keep the witness off balance. When they got to the elevator lobby, Nick was sitting on a nearby bench, and Cody completely forgot about the other associates. "I thought you were gonna wait on the roof."

Nick stood to greet them, "One, it's about a hundred degrees up there. And two, in the confusion over which chopper we were flying, I forgot my lunch. The lady at the desk helped me out." He wiggled a half empty package of vending machine peanut butter and crackers.

Cody started to grin because Nick had never brought a lunch when he flew Cody as there was no need. The opposing attorney's office usually had a tray of food available during the deposition. Only…there had not been any food today, and Cody suddenly realized he was famished. The sight of those dry peanut butter and crackers made his mouth water.

Nick rolled his eyes and held out the rest of the package which Cody snatched immediately. The first cracker disappeared in two bites and the second and third quickly followed the same path.

As the elevator arrived, Cody suddenly remembered the guppies as he and Nick stepped to the back of the car to give them room to get on. In the ensuing quiet of the ride, Nick glanced over with a questioning brow. Cody couldn't help his triumphant grin. Nick shrugged like he'd never expected anything else.

The flight back to L.A. was quick, and Cody spent the time working on his report for Townsend. Although he was sure Mosher would describe the same, he still needed to state what the deposition would say when the transcript arrived in a day or two, plus any weak points in their own or the opposition's case. Ordinarily, he would have asked Nick's impression of the proceedings, but his friend couldn't help with that today. And though he and Nick could have talked between themselves during the flight back, Cody didn't want to chance it with the guppies in the back seat.

When they got back to Mugu, the other associates all shook Cody's hand and congratulated him before leaving. Even Mosher nodded farewell with a modicum of respect. Cody used Jerry's desk to work on his report as Nick finished his post flight and paperwork.

When Nick walked back in the office, Cody was closing his briefcase. "Dinner?" It wouldn't seem right if they didn't have a drink and some food after their flight.

Nick smiled proudly, "Sure. Where?"

Cody gave it a second's thought, "A client was telling me about a place in King Harbor. Straightaway's?"

Nick nodded once, "I've seen it. 6:30?"

"I'll see ya there." Cody grabbed his belongings and headed outside, relieved. He'd been…a little concerned today. The job was easier with Nick around, but now Cody knew he could still get it done on his own.

That night, Nick lay in his bed, thinking about the day and his friend. Cody was smart, easy to talk to, and up for pretty much anything. He had a warped sense of humor quite similar to Nick's own, and they had a blast together even away from their respective jobs. But it had been clear from the first day that everything in Cody's recent past had been a blow to his confidence, and Nick had occasionally worried about him.

First was the wife who'd insisted that they needed to move for her new job. Which meant Cody had to leave a good firm where he had a future, and family and friends he'd known all his life and move to the other side of the country. Then after all that sacrifice, the bitch decided it still wasn't enough, and she'd left him. All by itself, that was a ball breaker.

Plus, Cody had gotten a job at a firm that had practically no soul. From the little that Nick understood about the place, it was the worst kind of competitive environment with every man out for himself. So even though Cody had become acquainted with his coworkers, he had never relaxed enough to be himself. But since Cody and Nick had…well…started _working_ together, Cody had chilled out and opened up. At least with Nick.

While the law firm sounded like the ninth circle of Hell to Nick, Cody seemed happier these days. He had made comments about the positive outcomes likely to result from the depositions he and Nick had obtained. That had brightened Cody's outlook significantly. And while Cody wasn't one to toot his own horn, Nick got the distinct impression that Cody's stock at the firm had gone way up with those same good results. Seemed like a logical conclusion anyway.

And even though Nick had necessarily been left on the sidelines today, Cody had come clean at dinner and said that he'd used the other associates—he kept referring to them as the guppies—in the same type of role Nick had frequently assumed. And he'd gotten similar results, which surprised Nick not in the least.

Along with his pride in Cody's success today was his own slight disappointment in not getting to be a pretend lawyer. All these years he'd thought that lawyers were slimebags… he suddenly remembered his own nickname for the associates who'd shown up with Cody this morning. So for the most part, his original impression of the legal profession still held true, but Cody wasn't like that. And Nick didn't feel slime-ish when he played the role. When the two of them discussed the situations and participants involved, Nick always felt like he was helping somebody. He hoped so anyway. And that felt pretty damn good. Even if what they were doing was technically illegal.

He also wondered if his part in the proceedings wasn't about to be cut short because Cody had developed such a following at the office that jealous coworkers and wannabes would be trailing along all the time. But if that was how it had to be…then that was just how it had to be. It wouldn't be as much fun, but if that was the case, at least Nick had gotten a best friend and had learned a little about how legal eagles got the job done.


	8. Chapter 8

The ringing phone finally broke through the haze of sleep. Nick jerked half awake, not sure how many times it'd already rung. He felt around on the bedside table, trying to find the handset, and falling back asleep at the same time. He finally managed to shove it against his face, "H'lo."

"Uh…Nick?"

Damn, not a wrong number, but he didn't immediately recognize the voice, so he didn't put much effort into seriously waking up. "Mm-hmm."

"Hey! How are you?"

"…'sleep."

"I know it's been a while. Like eight years, I guess, but uh…"

Eight years…? Okay, that woke him up a little. "Who _is_ this?"

"It's Murray. You may not remember me very well, but—"

"Murray Bozinsky?" Murray was a pretty unforgettable guy. And he and Nick had spent a pretty good evening together in New Orleans…about…eight years ago.

"Yeah! How are you?"

"Fine, Murray. Why are you calling me at…?" Nick glanced at the alarm clock, "Three o'clock in the morning?" Mostly awake now.

"Well, uh, I have a little problem."

Remembering the sweet-tempered inventor/computer genius, Nick had trouble picturing it. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I was wondering if you might know a good lawyer. And if you might possibly be able to bail me out of jail. If the judge sets bail, of course. I guess I need the lawyer first. And then bail. Hopefully."

"Bail? Murray, what happened?"

"Well, I had a little difference of opinion with my employers about an invention."

"Like the difference of opinion you had with Colonel…uh…what's-his-name…Litvak?"

"Well, yes, actually. Something very much like that. Only with a video game."

"…a video game?"

"It's a very boss game, Nick. At least it was before those idiots went and changed all the most important parts. Did you know that they programmed the Brickbats to—?"

"Murray! Murray, listen, tell me about the ball bats later; why are you in jail? Why do you need a lawyer?"

"Well, I got a little upset about the changes they made to my game. Without my permission, mind you! And well, I sort of broke the window in my lab."

"…They arrested you for breaking a window?"

"Yes. And…destroying my lab. With a baseball bat, actually. Funny you should mention a bat."

Nick squeezed his eyes shut. Destruction of property. Okay, didn't sound too bad, so why wasn't Murray just fired, given a citation, and told to appear in court to pay damages? This wasn't adding up. "What else?"

"What else? Oh, you mean…"

"Yeah."

"Well, I also sort of barricaded myself in the lab when I was destroying it. And when I broke the window, the glass fell about ten stories, and I kind of yelled out at my boss… _and_ the police after they arrived…about how I wouldn't let them get away with changing my game like that. Really, it was unconscionable, Nick."

Nick thought for a second…and remembered. "Did you hit anyone?"

"Well…"

Now the picture was becoming clearer, and Nick rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to stay open. "Okay. Okay, Murray. Where are you?"

"The Santa Barbara Police Station. The arraignment is in the morning."

"Okay. Listen, I know a guy. We'll be up there in a few hours, okay? You just hang tight."

"Okay. Nick, I'm really sorry to call out of the blue like this. Especially after so many years. In the middle of the night. But I didn't know anyone else in the area who might…well, that is to say…"

Nick smiled sadly. Sounded like Murray was still as socially awkward as he'd been in '76. "It's okay, Boz. Just hang tight, huh? You gonna be okay till I get up there?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. And thanks, Nick." With that reassuring tone, Nick wasn't sure exactly who Murray was trying to convince—Nick or himself.

Nick pressed the switch hook to disconnect the call and dialed a different number. After a few rings and a sleepy greeting, Nick apologized, "Hey, pal. Sorry to wake you up, but I need a favor. A friend of mine is in jail and needs a lawyer."

Cody yawned and rubbed his eyes. When Nick had called and said he had a 'friend' who needed a lawyer, Cody half expected it to be Nick himself. After all, Nick's rather significant temper fired off on a fairly regular basis. But instead, Nick had picked up Cody at his house and driven them to Mugu Airfield, and they'd gotten in the huge pink monstrosity Nick claimed was a helicopter that could actually fly. Which was Cody's third surprise of the night. One, Nick waking him at 3:00 a.m.; two, that it wasn't Nick himself in jail; and three, that the massive pink dumpster really did fly. Sort of.

Cody's eyes traveled on their own to the banks of switches in front and above them. Before the engines caught and the rotors started turning, Nick had whacked at them a couple of times with either the side of his fist or the heel of his hand. Which didn't really inspire much confidence in the machine. Neither did the random puffs of smoke that seemed to appear in various places. Cody's faith in Nick was pretty limitless after the last few months, but metal had a breaking point and machine parts did wear out. And the fact that he could hear the engine coughing and missing was causing Cody's muscles to clench involuntarily.

To take his mind off the rattle trap helicopter chugging through the night sky, "Hey, tell me about this guy. How do you know him?"

There was no immediate response. Cody turned to see what was wrong. Nick looked hesitant. Uneasy. Reluctant. It was unusual that Nick didn't immediately spill, so Cody got worried there was something amiss with the chopper. "What's wrong?" He hoped he didn't sound as tense as he felt.

Nick winced slightly, "There's nothing wrong. Not really. It's just kinda hard to explain."

"Nick, I need something to distract me from the fact that I'm flying in a helicopter that Da Vinci built. Talk to me. And if I know a little about this guy, it might help when we get in front of the judge."

Nick looked offended at the first comment, but he relented at the second. "Yeah, okay. Murray is… Well, we met in the army. This was when I was an M.P. It was '76, and me and another guy were sent to take this captain to military prison for assault on a superior officer. The prisoner's name was Murray Bozinsky."

Cody recognized the name from somewhere. "Wasn't there a Bozinsky who played for the Steelers? 'Killer' Bozinsky?"

A smile played at Nick's lips, "That's exactly what the guy I was flying with said. We were expecting this behemoth who'd be fighting us the whole way. Instead, they brought out this skinny little… _geek_ …whose uniform was too big for him."

Cody had trouble picturing it. "And he slugged a superior officer?" Didn't make sense unless the officer was a little geek, too.

"Yeah. Broke his colonel's nose. Full bird, too. That colonel was pretty ticked off, and he really pressed the case to get Murray sent to the stockade."

"Why'd he hit him?"

"Murray's…a genius. I mean a _real_ genius. He invents things. He was working in the research and development section of the army, and his colonel was taking Murray's _peaceful_ inventions and sending them to the War College where they'd be turned into weapons that could be used to hurt people. Murray's pretty passionate about his work. When he found out what was going on, he went ballistic and decked the colonel."

"Well, I guess I can see the guy's point, but…"

"Yeah. Anyway, he told us the whole story on the first part of our flight. I gotta tell you, I felt for the little guy. Being locked up was gonna kill him. And—oh yeah! There's this other thing; when he's nervous, he gets the hiccups like you wouldn't believe. Gave me the creeps 'cause he sounded like some kinda jungle animal. He did it the whole flight. Drove me crazy. If I hadn't felt so sorry for him, I'd have killed him just to get him to shut up with the hiccups.

"Well, it seemed like such a raw deal for him, I had to do something. So instead of refueling in Baton Rouge, I landed in New Orleans. I bribed the guy I was flying with to look the other way, and I took Murray to the French Quarter. He picked out a lady of the evening, and she took him upstairs. Which finally got rid of his hiccups, thank God.

"The whole time, I was trying to think of some way to help the little guy. I finally remembered I served with a fella in 'Nam whose father was a general _and_ a military judge, and I called him up. He gave Murray an emergency hearing, and that led to a new trial, and in the end, Murray was found 'Not Guilty' and got an honorable discharge. And then he got rich and famous inventing computer games."

Oh, _that_ Murray Bozinsky. He _was_ pretty famous. Put Cody in mind of his old Tom Swift books again. He sat for a second and thought over the story, wondering how much Nick had left himself out of the picture. Probably a lot considering how he'd glossed over that last bit. But back to the problem at hand, "So what happened today? Why was he arrested?"

"It was a little hard to tell from Murray's explanation on the phone—and I was half asleep—but I think it was probably the same kind of thing. He was going on about a computer game he'd invented. Apparently, the company he works for made some changes without consulting him. From what I understood, he barricaded himself in his office and then trashed it. Busted out a window and made a real spectacle of himself when the cops showed up."

"Did he assault anybody this time?"

Nick hesitated, "I think so. Murray gets so caught up in the moment, he just forgets himself sometimes."

Cody eyed Nick. The Italian tended to do the same thing occasionally. And while Cody would like to say he himself wasn't like that, yesterday's reaction to Mosher's insult of Nick proved otherwise. Given the right incentive, he supposed the same could be said of anyone.

The sun was coming up when Nick pointed at the horizon to the north. "Almost there. And before I forget, thanks for doing this. Murray…he's just…"

Cody smiled and squeezed Nick's arm.

Nick sat in the gallery of the court room, his thumb nervously tapping the arm of the chair. Beside him, Cody glanced his way once…twice…and finally firmly closed his hand over Nick's tapping. Nick squeezed his eyes shut and nodded briefly as he clenched both hands into fists to keep them still. A few seconds later, his knee began bouncing.

Cody leaned over to whisper, "Would you just relax?"

Nick blew out a quick breath. "I'm sorry, man, really. I just worry. I feel protective of him."

Cody smiled wryly, "Nick, I hate to point this out, but you're protective of everything. The little old lady at the bus stop. That piece-of-junk pink helicopter at the airport. Dolphins."

Nick started to protest. He was _not_ protective of dolphins. Unless they got caught in tuna nets and died for no good reason other than stupid fishermen being too lazy to let them go. But just then, the bailiff called Murray's name, and Nick looked up front to see them bring him in.

Murray hadn't changed much: tall, skinny, clothes about to swallow him: brown cords and an open, untucked plaid shirt with flapping cuffs over a faded, wrinkled T-shirt; geeky glasses with heavy dark frames, one arm taped together; a dark thatch of hair hanging lanky over his forehead. Murray looked anxiously around the courtroom, and he seemed to relax a little when Nick stood up beside Cody.

Cody stepped into the aisle and moved forward to the defendant's table to join Murray. "Cody Allen, counsel for Mr. Bozinsky, your honor."

The judge nodded to them both. "Mr. Bozinsky, you are charged with destruction of private property, assault and battery, and being a public nuisance. How do you plead?"

Cody whispered in Murray's ear, and then Murray looked at the judge. "Not guilty, your honor."

The judge looked at the prosecutor, "Mr. Sorensen, do you have a motion on bail?"

"Given the serious nature of the charges, your honor, I propose bail at one hundred thousand dollars."

The judge looked back at Cody, "Mr. Allen?"

"Your honor, that figure seems excessive since Mr. Bozinsky has never before been charged with a crime. Another fact to consider is that he's pretty well known, sir. He's had several articles written about him for the computer games he's invented. He was on the cover of _Popular Science_ last year. I think it might be difficult for him to attempt escape without being recognized. He does have a rather _distinctive_ appearance."

Nick might have found that perfect assessment of Murray a little funny if he wasn't so worried about getting him out of jail. There was no way Nick would be able to get a ten-thousand-dollar loan on his car for the bail bondsman. Or the chopper. Both combined maybe. Or he could sell the car…

The judge looked back at the prosecutor, "I'm inclined to agree with the defense, counselor. Bail is set at twenty thousand dollars."

Nick blew out a deep breath; he could swing two grand. Murray looked back at him nervously, and Nick nodded reassuringly. Then Murray managed a relieved sigh of his own.


	9. Chapter 9

Nick left to arrange payment with the bondsman, and Cody stayed with his client. They were taken to a small room while they waited on bail to be posted. He stuck his hand out as the door shut behind them. "Hi. I'm Cody Allen."

Bozinsky returned the gesture, a little jittery. "Thank you for coming. You're a friend of Nick's?"

Cody nodded, "Yeah. He's…my best friend."

His client offered a weak smile. "You're lucky. Nick's the kind of guy who'll really go out on a limb for you. That's one of the best feelings in the world, knowing you have someone like that. I, uh, I really don't, actually. Have anyone like that, I mean. I didn't have any right calling him out of the blue after so long, but I couldn't think of anyone else in this part of the country who might help me out. I haven't been in this much trouble since…" He glanced worriedly at Cody.

"Nick told me how you met."

"He kept me from going to the stockade, you know. First taking me out that night in New Orleans and then calling that general. I'd only known him for a few hours, but he did all that without me even asking. Now this… I just couldn't think of anyone else."

Cody nodded. Talking was a good way to calm an anxious client, but maybe they could swing the topic in a more helpful direction. "So, Nick told me a little about what happened yesterday. Can you give me some more details?"

And the whole story spilled out. Bozinsky's response to the company's changes to his game seemed a little disproportionate, but then it wasn't Cody's work that was altered without asking. Bozinsky got all worked up again just talking about it, and Cody saw for himself just how serious his client felt about the issue. But regardless of what had happened, Cody thought he could get the company to see reason. They wouldn't want the bad publicity when it got out why _Murray_ _Bozinsky_ had gone ballistic. After all, he _was_ famous, and the public would likely side with a guy who had proven he could produce a good computer game. Being a lone underdog against a huge corporation would also help sway public opinion. And if he could get management to back off, Cody figured he could probably get the state charges knocked down to misdemeanors.

By the time the bailiff showed up to say that bail had been arranged, Cody was clear on his plan. He led Bozinsky into the hall where they met an anxious Nick who shook Bozinsky's hand and pulled him into a quick hug. "You okay?"

Bozinsky managed a fidgety shrug and broken grin. "Yeah, yeah, of course. You know me."

Nick's look was reproving, "Yeah. Seems like we've been here before, Boz. Who'd you hit this time? You gotta learn to talk about these things before you go off the deep end."

"Yeah, but Nick, you don't understand what they did to my game. They took the whole spirit out of it! Let me just tell you—"

" _Murray!_ Just—" Nick gripped Bozinsky's shoulders, "Let's try to get you out of this mess, and then you can tell me about it." Nick looked desperately at Cody.

He nodded, "I've got a plan. Let's find somewhere to sit and talk—"

Bozinsky piped up, "And eat."

"And eat. I'll explain, and we'll hammer out the details."

And then Cody proceeded with the plan exactly as he'd explained to Nick and Murray. He talked to the lawyers at Dynagame where Murray worked— _used_ to work. And after an hour or so, they decided it was in their best interests not to proceed with any civil charges and agreed to talk to the DA.

It was a compromise for both parties. The company kept Murray's game. Murray got to leave the company free and clear and was allowed to remove all his personal projects from his office/lab. Murray agreed not to disclose Dynagame's not-so-ethical changes to his game, and management stated they would not publicize how Murray came to leave their company. Neither party was completely satisfied, but both got the essential basics for surviving the mess with the least amount of bad publicity.

And Murray got to stay out of jail.

Once the agreement with Dynagame was made, Nick landed his helicopter on the roof of their building. Murray and his supervisor marked what belonged to who. For the most part, anything still intact was Murray's which Nick probably could have figured out for himself. As Murray accompanied Cody back to see the district attorney, Nick loaded all of Murray's… _stuff_ …into _Mimi_ under the watchful eye of his friend's former boss. Who didn't lift a finger to help, but that didn't matter. Whatever Nick had to do to get Boz away from these leeches was fine.

Carrying the various pieces of equipment up to the roof gave Nick some time to think. Cody had really saved Murray's hide today. Nick couldn't imagine what might have happened if Cody hadn't agreed to come. The idea of Boz spending any more time in jail was just…scary. A place like that would kill him. Murray was too innocent—too naive—to survive anything like extended jail time. Nick needed to find some way to show Cody how much he appreciated everything he'd done for them today.


	10. Chapter 10

After all the charges were reduced to misdemeanors, pleas were entered and fines were assessed. Cody called the computer company to find out that Nick had already finished loading all Bozinsky's personal effects and left. He figured Nick would probably be waiting for them at the airport, so he and his client got into the rental car and headed that way.

Turned out Mr. Bozinsky didn't own any personal transportation. He said he spent most of his time at the office and took the bus back and forth whenever he needed to get to his apartment. Personally, Cody couldn't imagine living in California without a car, but then Murray Bozinsky wasn't a normal guy. Cody had to admit that he found the simple way Bozinsky looked at the world kind of sweet. Things were right or wrong, black or white, without a lot of gray. A little like Don Quixote. It was nice to know there were still people like him out there. And the little guy was lucky to have someone like Nick in his corner to help with all the real-life crap that occasionally went with those windmills.

"Mr. Allen, I can't thank you enough for helping me today. I know you only came because of Nick, but I wanted to personally thank you as well."

"You're welcome. And yeah, I came because Nick asked me…but I'm _your_ lawyer. At least for today."

Bozinsky winced slightly, "I don't know what your rate is, but it'll probably take me a while to pay you. I don't have a lot of cash on hand, and now I've got to pay these fines."

Cody had come to Bozinsky's aid because of Nick and hadn't really been thinking about his fee. "I thought you made a ton of money for your games and inventions."

Bozinsky shrugged slightly, "I'm good with computers and tinkering, but not so good at investments. I lost it all on the stock market."

A vague memory of that flashed through his mind. Maybe that's when he'd first heard Bozinsky's name. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My fault. Money never mattered much to me anyway. As long as I have what I need to create and invent and work on my computers, I'm happy. That's what Dynagame was supposed to do: provide equipment and supplies, and then they would get to market what I created if it had any use. But then they went and changed everything without even asking me. It's like telling an artist, 'Don't you think those apples would look better if they were red? The painting would certainly sell better.' So now all I've got is the equipment I've been able to buy or build…and no job. No steady paycheck."

"Have you got _any_ money coming in?"

"A little. I have some royalties from other stuff I've done. A little cash, but that'll probably go to pay the fines. Gonna be tight until I find another job. Of course, I could move anywhere. There's nothing keeping me in Santa Barbara now. It's just a matter of finding another position."

Cody glanced over at the glum features of his passenger. He understood being unmoored like that. Kind of like getting divorced. Just drifting without a compass or any wind at your back. "You know…I know we don't know each other that well, but— My house in L.A. is going up for sale with my divorce, so I don't know how long I'll be there, but you can bunk in my spare room till you find a job or I get it sold."

Bozinsky stared back, stunned. "Really? I mean, really? You'd let me just… _stay_ with you?"

Cody got faintly alarmed. Bozinsky made it sound kind of permanent. "For a while anyway. Until you decide what you're gonna do. Or until I sell my house."

Bozinsky's smile erupted, "Thanks. I mean, really, that's just boss! And bodacious!"

Cody couldn't help but smile, "Boss _and_ bodacious. That'll be tough to beat. I'm Cody."

Bozinsky nodded decisively, "Murray. Or Boz."

By then, they had arrived at the airport, and Cody followed the signs to the helicopters. _The Screaming Mimi_ stood out like a sore thumb. Cody shuddered again just looking at it.

"Is that Nick's chopper? Oh, wow! Look at it! That's so boss!"

Cody could think of words other than 'boss', but he didn't say anything as Murray hopped out of the car and ran up to the contraption.

Nick jumped out of the cargo door, looking anxious. "Well? How'd it go?"

"Everything's fine, Nick. Cody got it all worked out. I don't even have to go back to court. They've refunded your bail money and everything."

Nick waved off Murray's assurance about the cash as inconsequential. "And you're okay?"

The answering grin was about two feet wide. "I'm fine. I'm better than fine."

Always suspicious, Nick glanced over at Cody for confirmation, "Really?"

Cody nodded, "Yeah. It's all taken care of."

" _And_ I'm moving to Los Angeles! So we'll get to see a lot more of each other, right?"

Nick's confused face turned back to Bozinsky, "You're moving to L.A.? What brought this on?"

"Well, I don't have a job keeping me here anymore. And Cody said I could use his spare room. Till he sells his house."

Nick's shocked face shot back to Cody. "Is he serious?"

Cody was already feeling a little overwhelmed by the prospect, but… "Yeah."

Nick looked full of misgivings as he walked over and turned Cody's back to Murray so they could have a little privacy. "You don't have to do this. He's _my_ friend. If he needs a place to live, he can stay with me."

"Nick, I've got way more room than you do; it's no problem."

"It's Murray. It's _always_ a problem. C'mon, man, you've done too much already. You got outta bed in the middle of the night and flew up here. You took off work and spent the whole day helping _my_ friend…just 'cause I asked you to. I'll never be able to repay you for this."

Cody shifted to look straight in Nick's face. "What is this _repay_ garbage? Geez, Nick, you're my best friend. This is just one day, man. Doing what I do. I think the ledger's still heavy on your side, _Ned_."

"Ah, c'mon. I didn't—"

"Do anything? I see it differently." Cody gazed back at Murray who was going through the equipment in the helicopter. "Besides…I like him. Why can't he be my friend, too?"

Nick shook his head slightly, but Cody could tell he was wavering. He turned Nick back toward the _Mimi_ and slung an arm across his shoulders. "Besides, we still have to get the stuff from his apartment. Are you gonna have room for all that? And is that an orange vacuum cleaner rolling around behind him?"

Nick looked uneasy as they watched Murray trip over himself while climbing into the cargo hold.

A few things changed over the next couple of months.

The first one of any consequence was that Murray started getting consulting jobs from all over country, generally free-lance programming of all kinds. Anything from computer games to difficult problem-solving issues. He leased a rundown storefront a few blocks from the beach in King Harbor and set up a desk and a ton of phone lines for all his equipment which included an orange robot that didn't look anything like R2-D2 or C-3P0. Once it became known that _Murray Bozinsky_ was available, people managed to find him.

The second slightly bigger-than-normal event was that after one more client, Nick asked Cody if he needed Ned Newton anymore. Not that Nick had a problem playing the role…it was more that he didn't want anything to screw up Cody's cases. When he thought about it, he realized he didn't want anything to happen to Cody or any of Cody's clients…certainly not because Nick liked playing the big shot. Thankfully, Cody didn't get upset and admitted he'd probably been using Nick as a crutch for a while. The case with the slimebags and then Murray's situation had proven that he could still do it on his own.

The third big deal was that Cody's divorce was finalized. Despite knowing it was coming—and actually looking forward to it somewhat, even if only to have it behind him—Cody was still devastated and shut himself in his room. Thankfully, Boz was at home. Since Murray'd moved in, Nick had been dropping by most evenings after work, and the three of them spent most of their down time together. The day the divorce papers came, Boz called Nick at the airfield. Nick quickly arranged for a few days off and then organized a quick camping trip out to one of the Channel Islands. A couple hours later, he was pounding on Cody's bedroom door, threatening to break it down. Not listening to any objections from the blond third of their trio, the other two dragged him out to a quiet beach where he could yell out his anger and roar out his grief…at the fish. He could splash the water, break the wood, and kick the sand to his heart's content. And when he got done, his two friends were waiting with a warm fish filet and a shoulder to lean on. And in a few days' time, he was ready to finally be done with Janet Ingram Allen. The only thing left between them was the house…and they worked that so that whenever it sold, for whatever price, Cody would just send her half the proceeds after paying off the mortgage. And truthfully, Nick was thrilled with the decision because at least Cody could now move on, once and for all.


	11. Chapter 11

A couple of weeks after the divorce came through, the three of them were sitting down to pizza in Cody's kitchen. Nick was a little worried about Cody. Something was wrong, and he was concerned that the shadow of Janet had returned. Nick glanced over at Murray who was also studying Cody. They caught each other's gaze, mentally agreeing that something was definitely off.

Nick put down his crust and propped his chin on one fist, waiting patiently for Cody to come back to the conversation. Murray folded his arms and softly tapped his fingers. After a bit, Cody seemed to remember he was chewing and snapped back to reality. "Hey, how 'bout those Padres?"

Nick stared balefully, "How 'bout 'em?"

Cody glanced back and forth between him and Murray. "What? What's going on?"

Murray pushed his glasses back up his nose, "What's going on, Cody, is that you're on another planet tonight."

Cody started to object, but after another glance at them both, he looked apologetic. "You're right. Sorry."

Nick held his hands wide, "What is it? Are you thinking about your ex again?" He hated even saying her name for the bad memories it brought back to Cody.

Cody grinned, "No." Nick started to object, but Cody interrupted, "Really, that's not it. It's a case actually."

Nick peered hard at Cody's eyes which made his friend laugh. When Nick didn't see any deep melancholy, he decided Cody must be telling the truth. "What's the problem? Maybe me and Boz can help."

Cody pursed his lips briefly, "I could use some new perspective, I guess." He paused, "Okay, my client is an account manager who's been arrested for embezzlement. There was a large sum of money missing at the last audit, and the circumstantial evidence points to him. He swears he didn't do it and doesn't know who might be responsible. And I think I believe him."

Nick tilted his head to the side, thinking. "He's responsible for the day to day accounts? How come he didn't notice the money was missing?"

"He said when he checked the accounts on his computer every day, they never showed a deficit. They always matched up with his ledgers."

Murray immediately perked up, "The accounts are managed by computer? I could certainly take a look and see if there's anything amiss."

Cody looked at Murray like he'd never seen him before. "You can do that? Just look at a computer and see if there's anything wrong?"

"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, Cody. If all the balances match up but there's still something wrong, then it could be a programming issue. I can analyze the code and see what it's actually telling the computer to do and what it's telling the computer to report—because doing and reporting aren't always the same thing."

Nick shrugged slightly, "Before you do all that, couldn't it be something as simple as whoever physically managed the money just slipped some in his pocket?"

Cody shrugged, "I wondered about that, too, but I can't prove it."

"What do your investigators say?"

"They've looked at the bank accounts of the people with access to the books, the records, and the money, but they said they couldn't find any evidence that anyone benefitted from the theft. Not even my client. We hired an independent accounting firm who basically said the same thing."

Nick looked skeptically at them both, "That's all they checked? Bank accounts?"

Another slight shrug, "That's all they mentioned."

Nick snorted, "They're not sneaky enough."

Murray shook his head quickly, "Not nearly sneaky enough."

Cody looked at them both speculatively. "Could you guys look at the file with me? See what you think?"

Nick glanced back doubtfully, "That's not like being a pretend lawyer, is it?"

"No…it's like being a pretend investigator."

Murray nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, it's very like being a pretend investigator."

Nick thought about it, turning it in his mind. "I'm not flying tomorrow. I could get the day off."

After dinner, the three of them spread out the case file in the living room, dissecting the possibilities. The next day started in Murray's office as he got cracking on the computer, and Cody and Nick took off to check the players involved. Occasional phone calls between them finally pinpointed the assistant of the company's deputy financial officer. The assistant's ex-wife used to work at the bank that managed the company's accounts which they all felt was an interesting coincidence. After deciding who to concentrate on, Cody went to his office, and Nick started following the ex-wife to find out about her friends and activities.

The following day, Cody called off at work so he and Nick could check out the ex-wife's acquaintances identified from the previous day's surveillance. Her manicurist, Minerva, seemed to find Cody quite dashing and finally blabbed that the ex-wife's new cosmetic business had just taken off, leaving her with cash to burn.

Nick was scribbling notes, but he seemed to find the interaction between Cody and Minerva pretty funny. "Did you say cosmetics?"

Cody had initially turned on the charm when the lady had been reluctant to discuss her customer's business, but now that she'd warmed up, he was beginning to panic at her suggestive glances. He telegraphed to Nick that he needed a rescue, but Nick was suddenly quite absorbed in taking notes.

"How long has she been selling cosmetics?"

Cody struggled to maintain his smile as Minerva studied his lips. "Huh? Oh, maybe a year. I don't remember exactly."

Cody wished his throat wasn't so parched, "Have you ever bought anything from her?"

Minerva pouted, "Do I look like I need beauty products?"

Cody tried not to stare at the very noticeable line of concealer, the oh-so-bronze cheeks, the metallic baby blue eye shadow that went all the way to a miniscule line of highly plucked eyebrows, and the fuchsia lips that were painted almost halfway to her nose. "Oh, no, of course not—"

Nick interrupted with a glance around, "Certainly not any nail polish, but I've heard every girl keeps a lipstick handy in case Mr. Right walks in."

Minerva finally looked at Nick, and Cody felt like he could suddenly breathe again. "Well, aren't you sweet, handsome. And for your information, no, I've never bought a lipstick from Jan."

Nick quirked a curious brow, "Why not?"

"She never asked."

After a few more minutes of Cody trying to extricate himself from Minerva as Nick waited patiently by the door, they walked down the street toward Cody's Volvo.

"Thanks for the _help_ , buddy."

Nick shrugged innocently, "Hey, you start shining them on, it's all I can do to keep from being blinded by the glare. Remind me to put on sunglasses before you get going next time."

Cody's heavily placed elbow shoved Nick off stride, and they both started laughing. Nick dug a coin from his pocket as they walked up to a pay phone. "Let's see how Murray's doing with Jan Deihl's bank accounts and the program dissection." He paused before dropping in the quarter, "Don't you think it's kind of odd that her business took off even though she never asked Minerva if she wanted to buy anything? Not much of a saleslady to be doing so well."

The following day, Cody went back to the law office and reported to his supervising partner that he was exploring another possibility. Morrison pressed for details, but Cody didn't want to spill too much before they had more evidence. He then spent the rest of the day with the company's CFO and his people, taking his time to finally get in to see P. Jefferson Deihl. After all, he didn't want to spook the man into doing anything to cover his tracks.

Now that he was looking for it, he could see little tells in Deihl's manner. The man couldn't maintain eye contact. He flinched slightly before answering any question. He kept picking up small knick-knacks, then putting them back down…up, then down, over and over. The picture Cody got was of a nervous man who wanted the interview to be over.

Cody picked up Chinese before meeting Nick and Murray at Murray's office. "I'm sure of it, guys."

"Me, too."

"Me, three."

Cody looked at his friends as his smile widened. "Really?"

Murray's excited face bounced a couple of times, completely satisfied in his conclusion, and Nick folded his arms and nodded once.

As the food got passed, they each shared their stories of the day. Murray had taken apart each line of the company's program and finally found the command that took pennies from each transaction, side-lining it into another account. Next, he found the commands that 'corrected' both the original account and the account in the company's books so the plus and negative would not be noticed. Then he'd traced the side-line account to Diehl Beauty, Inc. Jan Diehl had set up the account (and likely the criminal programming) just before she quit her job.

At the end of the day, Cody had followed P. Jefferson Deihl as he left the office and drove to a branch bank where he withdrew the money from the side account. Then he'd watched as Deihl met his ex-wife and then the two of them drove to a rental house.

Nick laughed and said he'd photographed the same exchange from a different angle as he'd been following the former Mrs. Deihl all day as she shopped and paid for every single item from a seeming endless supply of cash. After the couple left the rental, he'd found an 'open' window and searched the house, finally finding stacks of cash in a disconnected freezer in the basement.

"I wonder if she's blackmailing him, or if they're still a couple. Just pretending to be estranged so that no one will suspect them of being in on this together."

Cody couldn't imagine going through anything as painful as a divorce just for money, but he'd learned a long time ago that lots of people saw the world differently than he did.

"So now what?" Murray was possibly even more excited. He'd clearly enjoyed himself.

"Now, I present all our evidence to the investigating office and make sure that my client is cleared. What the police will do with the information… Well, I hope they'll be arresting the Diehls."

Nick finished up the Kung pao chicken. "I'm glad we figured this out today. I've got a flight tomorrow, and I doubt Jerry would let me off anyway. That Huey is giving him trouble again. I need to work on it."

"Thanks, guys, for helping me out. I appreciate all your work. And…it was kinda fun."

Murray nodded vigorously, "I found it very stimulating to be working on a problem with immediate consequences. Very _real-life_ , you know? Most of the time, I just work around loops and issues that only play out on screen. I found this extremely engaging."

Cody smiled, but he felt a little sad. He'd be going back to his office tomorrow, too.


	12. Chapter 12

Nick stared at the waves…and the end of his pole…where the line disappeared into the water…at Cody's and Murray's poles…the deck of the boat…back to the waves. "What am I doing here? I don't like to fish. Fish hate me."

Murray glanced over, "Yeah, but _we_ like you, Nick."

Cody nodded, "And you've got the magic touch with a spice rack. This boat has a galley."

Nick stared morosely at his unmoving line. "Yeah. Just use and abuse me."

Cody shrugged, "Pretty much." Which made Murray chuckle.

Still, the company was pretty darn good even if Nick would have picked a different setting and activity. Cody had planned the whole day. He'd borrowed a cabin cruiser and brought them out on the ocean, promising Nick that he knew what he was doing. And as Cody had pretty much overcome his terror of helicopters and regularly trusted that Nick wouldn't let him die in a crash, Nick supposed he ought to return the favor. Plus, in the two weeks since they'd worked on the embezzlement case, Cody had been a little on the quiet side, and Nick was starting to worry again. Boz had brought up the same issue with Nick earlier in the day.

"Guys, I need to talk to you."

Nick didn't like the sound of that. Cody had that _this-is-big-and-I-need-to-get-it-out_ tone, and Nick suddenly wasn't so sure he really wanted to know what was up with Cody. But if Cody needed to talk, then Nick would listen—whatever it was. That's what friends did. But a glance over at Murray found a similar apprehension on his face.

"We got an offer on the house."

Oh. Well. Damn. Not like Nick hadn't known that was coming. He could go a couple of ways from here. From _Terrific, you're finally free of the last tie to the witch_ to _When do you have to be out of the house?_ Murray just looked lost.

Nick couldn't decide which way to go, so he went with, "Are you gonna accept?"

Cody nodded slowly, "I think so. It's a fair offer. But I wanted to talk to you guys first."

Murray snapped out of his fog, "Cody, it's _your_ house. You do what you want with it. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine."

Cody grinned, "I know you will, Boz. You're a survivor."

"Sometimes, I guess. But I'll never be able to repay you and Nick for what you did for me in Santa Barbara. You kept me from going to jail, let me move in with you. You've been true friends to me."

Murray really needed to get over that. Nick waved off the thanks _again._

Cody did as well. "You know, when you first moved in, I was a little worried. I've not shared space with anyone but Janet since college. But you're great, Boz, and I've really enjoyed having you as a house mate."

Murray looked overwhelmed, and his smile took over his whole face. "Thanks, Cody. Thank you very much. I think that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me."

"You're welcome. It's no wonder Nick dragged me out of bed at three o'clock in the morning to come get you."

Nick couldn't help but laugh, and that helped lighten his mood, but he still felt like Cody was building up to something. Maybe something Nick didn't want to hear. Like maybe he was going to move back east. Now that his divorce was final and he'd be out from under the house, there wouldn't be anything to keep him in California except the law firm from hell.

Cody got quiet again. "Another thing I need to say: I really hate my job. Okay, that's not completely true. I don't hate being a lawyer; I just hate working at Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow."

Damn. That's exactly what Cody was trying to tell them—he was moving back home. Nick felt his throat get tight…and resolved that he would not lose his composure. He reached up and rubbed a sore place in his neck just to give his hands something to do. Now would be a great time for him to get a bite—hell, for any one of them to get a bite. Nick stared across the waves…at nothing because his eyes were suddenly watering excessively. Lucky he was wearing sunglasses.

"My life is completely different from a year ago. So many changes I never would have made if I'd really had a choice."

Nick took a deep breath and squinted against the glare. Swiped his nose when it got a little clogged. Refused to look at his best friends.

"Except for you guys."

Almost by itself, his head swung back to look at Cody who simply stared back and forth at the two of them.

"I didn't want to move out here, but we did. And then _we_ became _me._ And I was…miserable. But then I got a crap assignment at work, and I ended up meeting Nick." Cody smiled at Nick who tried, but couldn't quite summon a smile in return. "And you made what could have been a terrible day turn out pretty damn good."

Nick finally managed a twitch of his lips, "And taught you that helicopters aren't scary."

Cody laughed, "I still don't like 'em much."

Nick conceded that some people were just weird.

"And because of Nick, I met Murray who's taught me that I'm pretty ignorant about a lot of things. And that living in a box isn't so bad if you can share it with someone."

Murray looked upset. "I don't mean to make you feel ignorant, Cody. Really, I'm just trying—"

Cody waved him off and patted his shoulder. "Don't sweat it, Boz. Doesn't bother me. I know I'm not a High-Q member."

Nick was quickly losing his temporary good spirits from the laughter. Cody was still building up to an announcement.

"What do you guys think of the boat?"

Nick blinked at the abrupt change. He glanced around, confused. "It's nice. It's a…nice boat, I guess."

Murray nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I like it, Cody. It's older, certainly, but it's got a good feel to it. Don't you think?"

Cody nodded sagely and turned back to Nick. "It's a _classic,_ Nick. You know all about classics, so you should appreciate that this baby has real character."

Nick folded his arms, seeing that Cody was trying to turn Nick's oft repeated argument about _Mimi_ and the 'Vette against him. Murray was trying to hold back a laugh, seeing them go at it. Nick cleared his throat in irritation that they were ganging up on him. Again. "Classics need a gentle but firm hand. Whoever takes on a classic has to be totally committed. So gimme a break, huh?"

Cody got a little serious again, "You think I could take care of this one?"

Confused, Nick backed up, "What do you mean?"

"I'm thinking about buying this old girl. Maybe living on her full time."

Nick blinked, "You mean you're not moving back east?"

Cody looked a little shocked, but then his face softened into a gentle grin. "No. I can't move back there."

"But your mom and all your friends are there."

Cody jiggled his pole a little. "They all know me as half of _Cody and Janet_. She and I were together for fifteen years. I'm not sure I could deal with them trying to remember who I was without her. My mom still wants us to get back together. She asks if I've talked to Janet every time I call. There's just too many memories back there for me to be happy."

Nick didn't fight his smile. Not even a little. "So you're staying here?"

Cody nodded, "And I'm thinking about quitting my job."

Nick wasn't sure that Cody hadn't grown two heads.

Murray's eyes were huge through his glasses. "What? Quit your job? What would you do instead?"

Nick's eyes narrowed again, "Wait a second. That's what I told you to do the day we met. 'Sell the house. Quit the job.'"

Cody smiled and nodded reluctantly, like he was having a hard time agreeing. "Yes, you did. It was good advice. I'm finally taking it."

Murray would not be put off. "Cody, if you're not a lawyer, what are you gonna do?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't be a lawyer. I just won't be working at Thayer, Sargent, and Winslow."

One brow lifted on Nick's forehead. "You're looking at a new place to live; you already got another job lined up?"

Cody licked his lips, and his gaze flipped back and forth between them. "Tell me what you think about this: the three of us go into business together."

Both brows climbed up this time. His best friend was insane. Nuts. Crazy. Bonkers. "Doing what?"

"Yeah, Cody, I can't even imagine the kind of name we'd have. _Lawyer, Pilot, Programmer._ Of course, it worked for _The Butcher, The Baker, and The Candle-stick Maker._ I know they had a conjunction in there, but I really can't see _"Lawyer, Pilot, and Programmer_ on a sign. Or in an ad." He paused, "Besides…what would we do?"

Murray was going off on a tangent again, but it was a pretty valid tangent. Nick couldn't understand what Cody was picturing.

"I've been thinking about the Deihl case. The three of us solved that. Just us. No one else. And we couldn't have done it without all three of us working together. We each bring something distinctive and necessary to the table. Boz, you handle all the technical aspects, and those are getting more important every day. Nick, you're the feet-on-the-ground, rubber-meets-the-road investigator. And I'm the guy to fill in all the legal mumbo-jumbo. I think word will get around, and we'll get clients."

Murray's eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree, but Nick had to put the brakes on this. Someone needed to inject a dose of reality. "How are we gonna make a living at this? You can't just start a law practice out of nothing. It doesn't just spring to life. And we will need money coming in."

"Well, it wouldn't necessarily have to be full time right from the beginning. You could keep working at Mugu, and Murray's getting pretty regular gigs on his own."

"Yeah, Nick, I can still take work on the side."

"And what else are _you_ gonna do, counselor?"

"Well, with the boat, maybe I could take out tourists. Take 'em fishing. You know." He shrugged.

Nick couldn't stop his incredulity. "You're gonna be a lawyer slash tour-guide?"

Cody smirked, "You're a pilot slash tour-guide; why not me?"

Murray nodded quickly, "He's got you there, Nick. That's one for him."

Cody's grin was triumphant.

Nick glared at Murray, "Who asked you anyway? You're on his side."

"Well, I think it would be great. You know, solving the puzzle, figuring out whodunit like _Colombo_. And there might be car chases like on _Rockford_. I think it would be neat."

Nick rolled his eyes. Neat. Murray thought it would be _neat._ Nick rubbed his eyes at his impossibly optimistic friends.

Cody turned on his most convincing tone. "Nick. We can do this. I know we can. I'm a decent lawyer, but I'm better when you're around. You're a jack of all trades. More, you know how people think, what makes them tick. You figure things out. Something needs doing, you find a way. And with your experience as an M.P., you'd make a great investigator. And Murray's talents…well, no one in the world can do what he does. We'd be unbeatable."

Murray nodded in excitement. In the face of the overwhelming onslaught, Nick found himself weakening. Not that he was really persuaded by Cody's argument…although he wasn't absolutely sure he was wrong. But the two of them just wanted it so much. And they wanted him to be part of it. It _would_ be nice to be part of a team again.

And it would keep Cody around. Probably the biggest incentive of all. Forget that it might actually work. Nick shook his head at the insanity of the idea. Then he considered practicalities. Not flying almost every day? Could he do that? Well, he was actually only flying about three days a week because he needed the down time, too. Still, flying a chopper was all he'd ever wanted to do.

But if he was honest with himself, he knew that he'd enjoyed being a pretend lawyer…helping people out. He missed it. Lately, flying had lost a _little_ of its luster. If he joined this crazy venture with Cody and Boz, he'd be sitting in with clients as the firm's investigator. Might be just as good as being a pretend lawyer. Maybe even better since he'd actually get to ask questions.

Just about then, Murray got a bite. Cody got one almost immediately after. Nick stared at his motionless line as he watched them reel in their fish, the whole time thinking about the possibilities and trying to make a decision.

Cody and Murray left him alone on the…ride?...drive?...sail?...back to the harbor. Nick paid attention as Cody confidently took the boat into a slip and then jumped down to tie up. Evidently, Cody did know his butt from third base when it came to boats. Maybe he even knew what he was talking about with this hair-brained idea for a business. And of course, Nick could keep working at Mugu till they saw if it was going to get off the ground.

Once they were standing on the dock, Cody and Murray gazed back at him hopefully. "Well?"

Nick glanced back and forth between them, still not sure, but… "Okay."

Their eyes lit up, "Really?"

"That's great! I knew you'd come around."

"I still think this is crazy."

Murray's grin stretched across his face, but Cody's was low and slow. "It's gonna work, buddy. I know it will. The three of us together, it's got to."

Nick still wasn't sure, but he was willing to give it a go. And well, stranger things had happened. After all, his best friends were a lawyer and a computer genius. For a dumb grunt like him, who'd ever have believed that was a possibility?


End file.
